


Rule Number 38

by hanaki



Category: Helix Waltz (Video Game)
Genre: And decide to distract each other, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Falling In Love, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Juven and Magda are best friends, Slow Burn, They go through something similar, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-01 03:22:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17236433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanaki/pseuds/hanaki
Summary: Rule #38 – A lady who falls in love will become less charming.Of all her mother’s rules, Magda always made it a point to adhere to number 38 due to how often and how seriously it was repeated. The day she broke it had been a complete accident.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It feels like this fic needed to happen, so I'm just gonna go for it. If the tags weren't clear, this will be a Juven/Magda fic - they just so happen to start out as friends who are into other people. I'm really excited about this fic - hopefully it turns out okay and you all enjoy it too ^.^ Thank you!

There were many rules laid out when Magda first came to Finsel, and on most days she remembered them all. Some were trickier to follow than others, but overall, she did a good job—aside from the occasional trip out to the slums, maybe. She knew they were set out with good reason, and found that she only disobeyed when _she_ had a good reason in return.

One particular rule on the list had always stood out more than the rest, largely due to how often and how seriously it was repeated. It was the one she made it a point to adhere to, no matter what. Rule Number 38.

_A lady who falls in love will become less charming._

Luckily, most of the noble men she met in Finsel had some fatal flaw. Some were rude or arrogant, others were snobbish or close-minded. Even the nicest among them had some quality that made them a bad match for her romantically—a friend, perhaps, but never anything more. All of these circumstances made rule number 38 the easiest to follow.

“Staring again, eyas?” Juven teased, winking when she rolled her eyes at him.

Very unladylike, but she was long passed filtering herself around the Viscount. Of all her friends, he was easily the closest one—always supporting her in some way that exceeded his family’s patronage. Even before she knew who her patron was, he was by her side guiding her and protecting her in the circle when it would have been easier to keep his distance.

“You just can’t stand having a lady stare at someone who isn’t you, can you?”

“You wound me,” he responded, his bemused expression saying otherwise. “I only have your best interests in mind.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry,” Magda assured him, eyes flickering back over to the man they were discussing. A handsome man, undoubtedly. Kind and considerate. The very first noble to make her feel welcome into Finsel’s little social circle, and the same man who still kept her on her toes at these balls. “Duke Olineaux has one of the fatal flaws, remember?”

The flaws were things she discussed only with Juven who had always seemed abnormally curious about Magda’s love life—or lack thereof. It wasn’t until she figured out his own situation that she actually understood why he was so damn curious. His own love life wasn’t going well, and so he seemed determined to experience love vicariously through the eyes of his ‘beautiful eyas’.

“Some flaws aren’t so easily ignored,” Juven muttered, drawing her attention back.

She eyed her friend sympathetically, her heart panging in sadness for him. As it turned out, Juven Sakan was hopelessly in love with an elf. And not just _any_ elf, either. He was in love with his house’s elf, Asteria, who was also the most well renowned of all the elves in Finsel. For a time, he had hoped to persuade her into his arms, but Asteria had finally put her foot down about it.

It didn’t matter how either of them felt; she was an elf, and he was not. And just like that, she’d rejected his feelings like they were nothing. Juven still cared for her deeply of course, but he respected her enough to cease his pursuit. Instead he watched her from afar now, eyes longing in a way that only his closest friends understood.

“You deserve better,” Magda told him firmly.

“There _is_ no one better. Not for me.”

“What about Lady Vicky?”

“She cares more about her concoctions than romance.”

“That’s not a no,” she mused, laughing softly at his scoff. Okay, that was a no, then. “Miss Rebecca’s quite lovely.”

“Lovely, yes. Interesting, hardly. I have more pleasant conversations with the green peacock.”

Magda glared at her friend. “Stop calling him that.”

“Ah, I forget how you adore him.”

“He’s my friend.”

“You like me better,” Juven insisted, and while he wasn’t wrong, she wasn’t about to admit it. She just gave him a look, ready to move on with the conversation. “Falling in love isn’t so simple, eyas. You can’t simply say a name and expect me to move on.”

“There’s always Lynna.”

Juven’s serious demeanor cracked in an instant, laughter pouring from his lips. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll marry Lynna if you marry the peack—Gonzalo,” he said, correcting himself before she could scowl again.

“You know that’s not possible.”

“Stranger things have happened. It’s not as if loveless marriages are uncommon in Finsel.”

“I’ve no interest in marrying strictly for status.”

“And there it is!” Juven exclaimed, eyes glittering with amusement. “You admit it—you’re considering breaking rule number 38! So scandalous, eyas.”

“That’s not—”

“Or maybe you already have,” he said, nodding toward the duke again.

She couldn’t help following his gaze, taking in the man’s features as he laughed at something some noble was saying to him. And then _she_ walked up, capturing Duke Olineaux’s full attention effortlessly. Duchess Olineaux—the woman Magda envied above all others. She was gracious and poised. Kind and courteous. Beautiful and charming. The list was endless, filled with qualities Magda could only hope to emulate. Not to mention the way she seemed to be Duke Olineaux’s entire world.

Someday, if she ever really _did_ break number 38, she hoped to have a husband who would look at her exactly the same way that Zoe looked at Christie.

“It’s a shame he’s married,” Juven continued. “Even your mother couldn’t turn her nose up at an Olineaux.”

“He _would_ be ideal,” she admitted. “Not just for his name, either.”

“He’s good looking for an old man,” Juven agreed amicably.

“He’s not old—and he’s a lot more than that,” Magda told him. “He’s sweet. Before you swooped in to save me, he was always looking out for me. I think I amused him.”

“Undoubtedly. A beautiful young woman, hanging off his every word. What old man wouldn’t want to look out for someone like you?”

“Not all men are perverts like you. He helped me because he’s a good person.”

“Are you implying my intentions weren’t pure?”

“You helped me because your father paid good money for my success.”

“Not true. I have an extensive track record of doing things deliberately to annoy my father.”

“He’s not a bad man, Juven.”

“I’m not saying he is. I’m just saying if he wants to control things in Finsel, maybe he should try _being_ in Finsel.”

Magda couldn’t bring herself to argue with that, too aware of the burden that had been thrust upon her friend the moment he was of age. Duke Sakan had basically bailed on the family, saying that Juven had it under control and that Barris was there to support him if he needed anything. Now that she knew a little more about her patron and the family, she knew there was more to it than that, but she could understand how Juven felt.

“We’re getting off track,” she realized, forcing herself not to look back at the duke and his wife. “The point here is that I _'_ m a sensible young lady. I don’t fall for men with wives.”

“It’s a good thing he only has one wife, then.”

She scowled. “You know what I meant.”

“Yes, I do. You’re in love with Duke Olineaux.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she sighed. This conversation was going nowhere. “Just to prove you wrong, I’m going to go say hello to him— _and_ to his wife.”

Magda met Juven’s challenging gaze, raising a determined brow as he just eyed her with that same glittering amusement as always. She could do this. Whenever they were at the balls, she always said hello to them. Usually while they were separate, but still. What difference did it make?

A broad smile was on her face as she approached the pair, only diminishing slightly when it took them a moment to notice her presence. “Good evening, Duke Olineaux. Duchess Olineaux.”

“Lady Ellenstein, your dressing,” Duchess Olineaux gushed, a kind smile on her face. “It’s causes such a scene in Finsel’s balls.”

“You’re flattering me. I still have loads to learn.”

They chatted about art for a few minutes, though she was keenly aware the duke had barely chimed in with a word. It wasn’t his choice subject, but she knew it would only fuel Juven’s assumptions if she chose to talk strictly to the duke.

“What’s the matter?” Duke Olineaux asked when she paused for a beat too long.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Magda replied, heart sinking in her chest as his gaze fell back on his wife. They exchanged a glance she couldn’t decipher—something just for them that she found herself yearning to understand. The duchess giggled at whatever it was, leaving Magda uncharacteristically speechless.

“Am I so terrifying?” he asked, directing his attention back to her. “It’s not like you to be so quiet.”

“Of course not. Maybe when we first met, but not now.”

“You seem to be having no difficulty talking to my wife.”

“Maybe I’m just more interesting,” Duchess Olineaux said, her smile growing as the duke sent her one of his own, charming smiles.

“That must be it,” Zoe agreed easily. “I’d talk to you over anyone else in the room.”

And somehow, just like that, Magda was forgotten. The two didn’t stop acknowledging her or cut her out of their conversation deliberately, but it felt very much like she was interfering in their alone time. Like even in this crowded ball, they were sharing a private moment and she just happened to be nearby.

The realization left her heart aching in her chest, though she wasn’t quite sure _why._ Not until she found Juven’s gaze on her from across the room, a familiar look in his eyes. That same pained expression he had on his face when he looked at Asteria, he was giving her. It made little sense until she realized what it was.

_Empathy._

Her heart sank further in her chest as she put it together. He was doing what he always said he wanted—seeing love vicariously through her eyes. Except instead of the fantasy he’d had in mind, he was facing this. The man of her dreams, staring fondly at another woman. Completely enamored by someone she would never even compare to. When had it started to hurt like this, seeing those two together? When had she started to feel this way? Every other time she spoke with the Duke, she never felt anything like this. There was no jealousy, it was just...

Everything. In those moments, the duke had been entirely focused on  _her,_ and it had been everything. The only moments she truly looked forward to at these balls were the ones spent by his side, laughing at one of his stories or facts. Hearing him compliment her dressing or dancing. No matter what she was going through, or how stressful the day had been, he always made it go away for those brief moments they spent together.

Magda gulped as she processed what that meant, her heart racing in her chest. She couldn't get away from the pair quickly enough, moving toward Juven with a renewed sense of urgency. She needed to get out of here.

“Not a single word," Magda warned, raising a warning finger at her friend.

Juven eyed her with profound understanding, offering his friend a glass of wine instead. “Cheers, eyas.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos! It's really motivating, I'm glad there are people interested in the fic. More to come soon.

There was a change in Magda after that first night of accepting her apparent feelings for Duke Olineaux, and while she was conscience of it, she wasn’t able to do a thing to stop the impact of her newfound affections. It was one thing to _feel_ such things for an unattainable man, but another entirely to be aware of it. It had been so harmless at first; so innocent when she hadn't realized the looks she was giving him were filled with longing, and that she was interested in a lot more than what he had to say as she hung off his every word.

Why did he have to be so kind? So humorous and compassionate? It was no wonder she had been drawn to such a man, and now she didn't know how to act around him at all. As tempting as it was to avoid Finsel’s balls entirely, she knew that wasn’t a productive way to sort it all out in her mind.

Instead she avoided any balls she knew the Duke or Duchess would be attending. It was surprisingly difficult; usually at least one of them was out and about, fulfilling the family’s social obligations. She found herself scanning the room every time she entered a new ball, just to be sure she wouldn’t be surprised by their presence. She had run into Christie at least twice, and it took everything in her to keep the smile plastered on her face despite the ache in her chest.

Unfortunately, there was another ball nearly every night and she was all but required to attend even if her head wasn't in the game yet. Her eyes scanned yet another room, bracing herself for the possibility of yet another awkward encounter.

“My beautiful eyas, are you looking for me?”

Of course Juven found her like that, knowing damn well she was in fact _not_ looking for him. He was all confidence as he offered her the usual; a glass of wine and a wink. He was a good friend, if nothing else. A glass of wine was exactly what she needed to calm her nerves.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping to see you here,” she admitted, accepting the glass tentatively.

He offered her an indulgent grin, eyes flickering up her body indiscreetly the same way they always did when they met at one of these balls. To an outsider, he was Finsel’s playboy, looking over yet another lady with impure thoughts. To her, he was just making sure she looked okay to be here. It was a relief knowing she had such good friends. No doubt he would find an excuse to get her out the door if she looked upset or unfit to be at one of these balls. He'd be the first to tell her if her dress wasn't right, to save her the embarrassment of a failed encounter with one of the circle's persistent ladies who loved to challenge her.

Judging by the look in his eyes, she looked just fine this evening.

“I’m sorry to keep my beautiful lady waiting so long,” he told her, not missing a beat. “It’s been days, yet you’re just as gorgeous as I recall.”

“That’s very kind of you, Viscount,” she responded, raising her glass with him. It seemed like the rumor mill was slowly losing its interest in the pair, their conversation as bland and typical as it always was when they exchanged their greetings. That meant they could actually start talking soon instead of waiting out the formalities. “When did you get back to town?”

“Last night,” Juven answered, sipping at his own wine. “My trip was a success.”

Magda smiled, pleased to hear that. “That’s wonderful news.”

“It is, but that’s enough about me,” he decided, nodding toward the room. “Is there any lucky gentleman here who has left a deep impression on you?”

Magda froze, her calm demeanor cracking for a single moment as she eyed him questioningly. “That’s out of the blue.”

“Humor me. There are no dukes in the room—it’s a harmless question.”

“Well, you know how I feel about Lord Gonzalo. Each time I meet him, I’m impressed by his unique and sumptuous style,” Magda said, grinning as the Viscount rolled his eyes.

“The green peackock,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I suppose you could say he has an eye-catching figure. Not quite what I intended with the question though, my lady.”

“Oh?” she feigned innocence. “I fear you won’t find an answer, then. There is no one.”

“Surely someone else has caught your eye.”

“There’s always Lord Xavier,” she mused, another good friend of hers.

“I hear he’s still serving the noble ladies in the Spiral Spire, making their dresses more beautiful.”

“Right. He’s quite powerful,” she told him, gesturing down at the enchantment on her current gown. He watched with interest, the gentle lights dancing down the material of her dress like an elegant waltz. “I heard that the devil king was also unintentionally released by Lord Xavier when he was reading a book. Magic books are very dangerous.”

“Leave the seals unbroken and everything will be alright,” Juven mused, shrugging it off. “It seems the two of you get on very well. Is there anyone else?”

“So many questions,” Magda frowned, growing more and more weary as he just kept that same ‘innocent’ smile plastered on his face. Where was he going with this? Two could play at this game. “Actually, you are also marvelous, my lord…”

“Beautiful eyas, you don’t need to please me like this.”

“It is more than pleasing words. My mother often speaks highly of you, saying that you are—”

“A famous playboy and that you should keep distance from me,” Juven finished, sipping his drink like it was nothing. It took all her willpower not to laugh—he was pretty much spot on. “I suppose she's not wrong, though my fondness for Finsel's ladies is quite sincere."

“A mere playboy could never uplift the Sakan family at such a young age.”

“Yes, well, we all have our roles to play. It seems you’re playing yours quite well, too,” he told her, shaking his head. “I’d hoped to find a potential suitor for you this evening, but you insist on evading my question.”

“I’m not interested in suitors right now.”

“You deserve happiness, Magda,” Juven told her, uncharacteristically serious. He almost never said her name, and the sound of it on his tongue left her throat dry. “I don’t want to you to be in my situation—watching the one you care for from afar. The sting will never cease if you never treat the wound.”

So long as she had the duke solely on her mind. His logic had merit, though her friend really ought to know better than most that it wasn’t so simple. She’d just barely accepted the fact that she cared for the duke more than she should—how was she to forget those feelings so easily? It wasn’t as if she could just switch them over to another person at will.

“If my mother had her way, I’d marry your uncle,” Magda confessed, giggling as Juven nearly choked on his wine. Very rarely did she catch him off guard like this, and she thrived on it every time. “He’s a very suitable candidate.”

“Perhaps.”

“I could be your aunt,” she persisted, her smile growing as he seemed to grow more and more unimpressed. “You don’t want me to join the family?”

“Certainly not.”

Magda gasped, ‘offended’. “Tell Auntie Magda how you really feel.”

“Barris is more like a brother to me than an uncle,” Juven told her, the reluctance clear on his face. She knew them both well enough to know they had a unique relationship—that Barris often looked after Juven and Barbara more than he looked after himself, and that it left them both quite exasperated. “I’d never allow my brother to marry a lady who was in love with another man.”

“I was only teasing. I wouldn’t pursue him knowing my feelings lie elsewhere.”

“I know, eyas. If you ever join my family, it will be because you’ve decided to marry _me.”_

She laughed louder than a lady should, drawing more attention from around the room than she preferred. “That won’t be happening.”

“Perhaps not. You really are beyond my expectations,” he told her slowly, handing one of the maids his empty glass before snatching hers and doing the same. “Your eyes, shining as the blue sky, have conquered many young nobles. We’ll find you an appropriate suitor soon.”

“I’m not interested,” she reiterated plainly.

“The Ellensteins have restored their name and rejoined the Senate. What more work must you do?”

“Our name is only newly restored.”

“All the more reason to marry. There is no stronger way to form an alliance in Finsel.”

“Who do you suggest, then?”

“Well, in terms of strengthening your family’s position, I’m certainly a better candidate than Balfey or Gonzalo,” Juven persisted, extending a hand to her in clear invitation. She accepted it wordlessly, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor as she mulled it over.

He wasn’t actually proposing marriage, of course. Not when he was in love with Asteria and she was thoroughly distracted by Duke Olineaux. Maybe marriage _was_ the next step for her in the social circle, though. A loveless one more than likely, to a noble her mother approved of with the right status.

It sounded awful.

“Is your father pressuring you to marry?” Magda wondered, following him step for step on the dance floor.

Juven was talented at many things, and dancing was among them. Of all the dance partners she’d had through all the balls she attended, he was always the one who kept her on her toes. There was an elegance in the way he moved, seemingly effortless like everything else he did. She knew better than that—nothing Juven did was truly effortless. It took years of discipline and practice to shape him into the man he was today, and the fact that he made it look simple was a testament to that hard work.

_Body is yours._

How was it he always told a story with his dances? Few others could manage, their steps pretty yet meaningless. Magda had studied dance for years, and so she knew the patterns—the underlying messages one could tell with each step. What exactly was he trying to tell her with this one?

“You didn’t answer my question,” she noted, face flushed as he put a hand on the small of her back and pulled her a little closer. “Juven?”

“My father may be the Duke, but I’ve already taken over the Sakan family. There’s nothing he can pressure me into doing without coming back and taking over again. Even then, he’d be hard pressed at this point.”

“So?”

“So, my beautiful eyas, my body is yours,” Juven told her simply, smirking at the faint blush spreading across her face. “If you’ll have me, that is.”

“You’ve lost your sanity.”

“It’s practical—we both have much to gain by spending time together. We understand each other all too well, so there won’t be any confusion or expectation of love.”

Magda blinked a few times, expecting to see his classic wink or _any_ indication this was a joke. There was nothing though. Just that indulgent glow in his eyes, like he was waiting for her to huff and call him insane again.

"Are you proposing a political marriage with me?"

"Hardly. I'm proposing a courtship where we indulge one another until we no longer require indulgence. Then we can both move on with our lives."

"You realize there are certain expectations of me, as a lady in Finsel."

"I promise not to destroy your purity,” Juven told her, finally offering the wink she’d expected from the beginning. “Not without your permission, anyway.”

“You’re horrible!”

“I assure you, eyas, I am not.” His expression steeled itself, like he was completely indifferent about her answer. “Well? What do you think?”

“I think you could destroy my reputation without even trying.”

“Or I could strengthen it beyond compare,” Juven countered, raising a brow. “Think of it this way—my beautiful eyas, the first woman to ever attain exclusivity with Finsel’s most notorious playboy. You’ll have suitors lining up to discover what makes you so special.”

“You certainly think highly of yourself.”

“I can’t help that the public is intrigued by my every move.”

She scoffed, though there was little room for argument. He’d gone out of town for two days on a simple business trip, and somehow it had spiraled into a crazy rumor that he was with some woman in the slums. Every time the Viscount did anything, there seemed to be some sort of gossip that followed.

“I’d never hear the end of it from my mother,” Magda concluded, almost apologetic as she saw his expression fell. “Don’t give me that look. It’s not like you’re actually interested in me.”

“No, but I have come to care for you a great deal since your arrival here.”

“I care for you, too,” she admitted, which he already knew. He was one of the only people she ever dropped her guard around, allowing her mask to come off as she discarded the polite words and pleasantries she forced herself to use with most others. She trusted him in a way she couldn't trust the others, at first because she knew his family stood to gain from her success, but that quickly gave way to the simple fact he had become her friend and confidant. “That doesn’t mean we should enter a courtship.”

“Not even a fake one?”

“Not even a fake one,” Magda confirmed, laughing softly as the Viscount _pouted._ She had never seem him with such an expression, and it was oddly adorable. “You’ll get over it.”

“How will I ever move on?” Juven pondered dramatically, just a bit too loud. He was drawing unwanted attention again, and the jerk knew it, too. The rumor that she turned him down would be circulating by morning, no doubt. “You’ll break many hearts before you finally settle down, Lady Ellenstein.”

“I sincerely doubt it.”

“Perhaps you’ll honor me with one last dance before I walk away with my head hung in shame?”

Magda eyed him a bit more fondly than she intended, the smile pulling at the corner of her lips too persistent to fight. “Of course.”

One hand was on the small of her back again before she could blink, and the other was holding her own as the next song began to play. Something a bit slower paced this time. She couldn’t help wondering what secret message he’d send her this time, just for the two of them to share.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate everyone who's taking the time to read/kudos/comment! I figure as long as 1 person's reading then it's worth posting as I write this one haha.
> 
> I'm pretty obsessed with HW right now..........I'm secretly wondering if I could pull off a Zoe/Christie/Magda fic, but idk if there's even any interest in that - I'm also working on a Magda/Carlos story and a Magda/Barris one. I think that's my favorite thing about the fandom, there are so many options! These first couple fics are just me dabbling in and figuring out what I like best. Definitely open to suggestions, ideas, recommendations, etc.
> 
> Also, I am dying to read more in this fandom. Let me know what you're working on?? I wish there were more content to read! I'm into virtually any pairing in this fandom, whether its M/F, F/F, M/M, polyships, anything! I feel like I'm only writing because there's not enough to read haha, I'd rather just binge read all day.

As the days passed and the balls passed, she couldn’t help thinking over Juven’s offer more and more. It had become impossible to carry on avoiding any invitations from the Olineaux’s, and something about stepping foot into their estate left her feeling shaken. It made little sense—nothing had happened, and it wasn’t like the duke or duchess _knew_ about the silly things going on in her mind. It was just uncomfortable being there, knowing now how she felt.

Walking in with a Viscount on her arms would have done wonders to her confidence. Especially Juven, who she trusted would remind her to keep her head high at all times. He would have pulled her aside and set her straight before letting her embarrass herself, and then he would have flattered her beyond reason until she was telling him to stop with the very confidence he was trying to elicit from her.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t hers to bring along at her every whim. He was a busy man, and this was one ball he wouldn’t be attending despite her pleas.

_“I’ll be out of town,”_ Juven had told her apologetically. _“Forgive me, eyas.”_

There had been nothing to forgive, and she’d told him as much. It was better to find her own confidence anyway, than to rely on a man to keep her composed. That was what she told herself despite knowing it was a man’s gaze that left her feeling vulnerable in the first place, and more out of place than she had felt during her very first ball. Ironically, it was the same man who knocked her off kilter in both instances—today and back then.

“When we last met, you told me I wasn’t so terrifying,” Zoe told her, wasting no time with small talk after they’d exchanged their greetings. “Your avoidance seems to say otherwise.”

“Apologies, Duke Olineaux. It’s never been my intention to avoid you.”

“No, just the balls I’m forced to attend.”

Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she knew she’d been defeated under his curious gaze. “I thought myself unwelcome after last time.”

“I wouldn’t send you invitation if you weren’t welcome. You’re one of the few who makes these balls worth attending,” he admitted, smirk growing as Magda blushed under his attention. “I’ve always found you entertaining, Lady Ellenstein. Even the day we met.”

The day that he indulged her and her fumbled words when he ought to have sent her on her way the same was the Grand Duke did. Duke Olineaux had always been unnecessarily kind to her, even if part of that was for his own entertainment. She liked to think they had formed a genuine friendship over time rather than believing she was still just an amusement to him. His laid-back attitude even now, after weeks without seeing one another, seemed to confirm she was right.

“Christie and I try to split up as best we can during these balls,” he continued conversationally. “We get too caught up with one another when we’re side by side. If we made you feel unwelcome, it was not our intention.”

“You’re husband and wife. It’s only appropriate that you would rather talk to one another than to anyone else in the room.”

“Yes, but these balls are a social obligation. I have all night to talk to my wife once it’s ended.”

Magda blinked a few times, trying to remind herself she had no right to feel anything in response to that statement. The hurt blossoming in her chest was just her own foolishness, and nothing more.

“I see,” she muttered, dropping her gaze momentarily.

“Magda,” Zoe said, just quietly enough for her to hear. It drew her attention back up, not used to being called by her first name when she was out in the circle. “What have I done to offend you? I’ll see it right before the night ends.”

“It’s nothing—”

“If it were nothing, you would look me in the eyes and show me your lovely smile one more time,” he insisted, arms folded across his chest. “I’m not a young man, and I have little time for games. I won’t fault you for being blunt—speak your mind.”

“I fear I needed some time away from the Olineaux family after our last encounter,” she admitted, inhaling a deep breath. It was hardly enough to steel her nerves, but what was she supposed to do under Zoe’s no-nonsense gaze? He wouldn’t settle on anything less than the truth. “I found myself jealous during our last encounter, and that’s an emotion a real lady would never allow herself to put on display.”

Rule number 15. Even if another lady bests you in beauty, never display your defeat.

She was to smile and congratulate anyone who made her feel inferior, even if she felt hurt or envious. If she found herself unable to do so, she was to remove herself from the situation entirely. Jealousy was not an attractive emotion, and her mother had been very clear about that. The rule applied to all types of jealousy, too, not just the kind that festered in her when she saw other nobles with nicer dresses or designs.

“I see,” the duke responded, nodding like he understood. Clearly he did not. “There are many loveless marriages in the circle—if you want one like Christie and I share, I can help guide you. The key will be patience. Don’t allow your mother to coerce you into marrying for status.”

“I’ve already decided that much myself.”

“There’s someone you have in mind?” Duke Olineaux realized, raising both brows. “Who is he?”

“It doesn’t matter who he is. It’s not possible.”

“You’re smart, Lady Ellenstein. Witty and poised. You underestimate your own beauty and elegance,” Zoe told her, his tone leaving little room for debate as his eyes swept her up and down. “I can think of few who would turn you down, and those few wouldn’t be deserving anyway. Speak his name, and I’ll tell you if he’s worth your attention.”

Magda eyed him in disbelief, flattered yet disturbed by his every word. His careless affection did nothing to make her feel better, instead leaving her heart on the verge of breaking. How was she to tell him that _he_ was the very man in her mind? That it was this very behavior he was demonstrating that drew her in, and that it was too late for her to escape the feelings that had blossomed?

“His name does not matter,” she asserted, forcing herself to hold his gaze even as it narrowed. Zoe really _could_ look terrifying when he wanted, but she was never afraid. Maybe others had reason to be when he was in such a mood, but not her. “He’s a married man.”

Zoe’s brows shot up, clearly surprised to hear it. “Most of the men your age have yet to wed.”

“That’s right.”

“So he’s older?”

“A bit, yes.”

“I thought I was the only old man you humored at these balls.”

Magda laughed softly, not bothering to respond. It wasn’t quite true—she made it a point to speak with almost everyone, and many of them were older or married. It just so happened that Zoe was the one she had real conversations with, extending beyond pleasantries and favors.

“It happens from time to time—a foolish young lady will grow infatuated with me,” Zoe started, seeming to realize exactly what she wasn’t saying and why. “Usually they know little about me beyond my title. It doesn’t seem right to tell you the same thing I would tell them.”

“I already know what you tell them,” Magda shrugged, as if her heart weren’t heavy in her chest under his critical eye. “They’re wasting their time and yours. You’re happily married.”

“More or less, yes. That’s not what I wish to say to you.”

She eyed him tentatively, not sure if she even wanted to know. “What do you wish to say, then?”

“Would you care for me if I were the kind of man to turn his back on his wife and family?”

“Of course not.”

“Good. I’m not that man—I love my wife. My family. Time spent with you is never a waste, but I wouldn’t be a man worthy of your attention if I indulged you in this.”

“What does that mean?” Magda wondered, piecing it together in her mind. Surely he wasn’t saying…

“It means exactly what you think it means. Nothing, because it cannot mean anything.”

And yet his words meant everything, even as he excused himself from her company. In another lifetime, perhaps things could have been different for them. He cared for her even when he knew he should not—just not enough to act on. He was right to think she wouldn’t be quite so infatuated if he were that kind of man anyway. His commitment to his wife and family was one of the things she found most attractive about him.

Still. He knew, and he’d all but turned her feelings away. Her eyes followed him across the room, the longing in her chest undeniable. What was she doing? It was hopeless, yet she couldn't stop. She couldn't contain her emotions even when she knew there was no point in feeling them.

Maybe Juven was right—this couldn’t go on. She needed a distraction until she was truly able to move forward. The real question was, what kind of distraction would be best? She could practically hear her mother’s objections already if she chose to play along with Juven's suggestion. 

It wasn't like he came from a bad family though, and it wasn't like they would actually cross any lines. Surely there were worse things than being 'courted' by a Viscount.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all, as usual!

She only got away with skipping one Sakan Family Ball before Juven was at her estate with question filled eyes, looking unusually impatient. Normally he jumped right into the compliments and flattery before circling to the point he wished to discuss during his visits, but not this time. This time there wasn't even a smile on his face as he stood in front of her, like he was trying to refrain from being _too_ abrupt with his frustration.

Thankfully her mother wasn’t home to witness their exchange. No doubt it would have been considered impolite even though they weren’t truly fighting. She sent the maids away before Juven jumped right to it, not quite sure why he was so upset about this particular ball. It wasn't as if she hadn't missed one in the past with so many other social obligations in the city.

“Have I done something to offend you, Lady Ellenstein?”

“Of course not. It was one ball!”

“It was for my sister’s birthday. She was looking forward to your appearance.”

Magda frowned, feeling guilty for just a moment before remembering, “Her birthday was last week. I spent the afternoon at your estate with her. You joined us for tea in the garden!”

“That was the informal celebration.”

“I didn’t realize,” she told him apologetically. It was one of those things no one really knew about Juven other than those close to him—he adored his little sister. He spoiled her at every turn and would not accept anyone offending her. “You know I’d never hurt her feelings on purpose. The invitation made no mention of her birthday.”

“It’s common knowledge in Finsel,” Juven insisted, letting out a dramatic sigh when she furrowed her brows helplessly. What was she supposed to say to an upset brother? That she was too distracted to piece that together herself without seeing it written plainly on the invitation? “What happened, Magda?”

“Nothing.”

“I know you went to the Olineaux’s while I was away,” he said, gently this time. His eyes narrowed as the seconds passed until she could no longer hold his gaze. “I heard a rumor when I returned. It seems Duke Olineaux ordered a special dress—custom made by Miss Rebecca.”

“Oh?” Magda huffed, not seeing the point in this conversation.

“No one could say who it was for; just that it wasn’t purple.”

_It wasn’t a dress Christie would wear_ , he said without saying, the answer already in his eyes. If he knew, then why did he persist in asking?

“What was he hoping to apologize for with that dress?” Juven asked carefully.

“It wasn’t an apology, it was a gift. The Olineaux’s have shown their support for my family almost as long as the Sakan’s, in case you forgot. They were the first family to publicly—”

“You realize I’ll find out whether you tell me or not, yes?”

She hmphed at that, petulant like a child. Only Juven could bring out this side of her, and for whatever reason that knowledge just spurred him on. Anyone else and he would have just used his resources to find out whatever it was he wanted to know. He was sly and had a knack for discovering anything he wanted to know in the city with little effort.

With her, he dropped the pretenses. There was no point in beating around the bush with friends, nor in spying when he could simply ask her directly. In a sense, that made her the luckiest of them all. She’d rather just tell him herself than allow him to discover the distorted version that would be in the rumors or gossips.

“He realized you were avoiding his balls,” Juven guessed, triumphant when she didn’t deny that much. “I suppose he thought the same as I did—that he’d offended you in some way.”

“Initially,” she admitted.

“And? I can’t imagine you allowed him to believe that when it’s not true.”

Magda sighed, not seeing the point in holding out any longer. “He’s almost as bad as you. He kept pushing until I relented.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him I felt unwelcome during our last encounter. Jealous.”

Juven was by her side before she could continue, finally taking a seat at the table. She’d been having tea when he stormed in, and it was already too cold to enjoy on the little plate in front of her. She fidgeted with the cup anyway, spinning it around in circles like a poor imitation of a dance across the tabletop.

“Eyas,” he whispered, reaching for her hand. His hovered over her own, stilling it as she finally dared to meet his gaze. “I understand. It’s going to be okay.”

“I know that,” Magda insisted.

“You need not avoid  _me._ I’ll always be here to support you.”

“I just didn’t feel like celebrating. Truly, if I’d realized it was for Barabara’s birthday, I would have attended regardless of my mood.”

Juven didn’t seem bothered anymore, focused solely on her shaken demeanor. “Did he press the issue—to clarify what you meant?”

“He knows,” she confirmed with a grimace, embarrassed just by the memory—the way he’d walked away without looking back after letting her down. “He turned me down kindly, and then sent me a dress. The one you mentioned, from Miss Rebecca. It’s lovely. I'd intended to wear it to your family's ball, but when I was getting ready to put it on..."

“What were you thinking, confessing to a married man? To one you  _know_ adores his wife?” Juven wondered, gripping her hand a bit more firmly before she could pull it away. “I have no desire to upset you, I’m just curious. We’ve talked about this—you knew nothing would come of your affections.”

“I know. I still know,” she insisted with a sigh. “He asked why I’d been avoiding him, and I couldn’t bring myself to lie. Not to him. If you’d seen the way he was looking at me, you’d understand.”

“I see…” Juven let out his own sigh, scooting his chair closer to hers than what would be deemed proper. “It seems you and I are alike in that regard.”

“You confessed to Asteria ages ago.”

“She was with me on this last trip,” he said with a frown. “She asked me to assist with her gown after our business meeting. I may have misunderstood her intention.”

“No!” Her eyes went wide, wondering what Asteria could have been thinking. She  _knew_ how Juven felt—it’d been made very clear some time ago, and he’d been so gracious when Asteria finally asked him to cease with his advances despite the pain it caused him. “What happened?”

She could feel the energy in the room changing as he paused a long moment, like he couldn’t bring himself to answer. It was obvious he was kicking himself for whatever it was that happened, and she couldn’t understand why. Not if Asteria had been the one to initiate such contact.

“She believed I’d moved on,” Juven explained quietly. “Apparently I’ve been so respectful toward her, she assumed I was beyond my ill-advised affections.”

“That’s no good reason—”

“The bindings on her back were tied too intricately. She couldn’t get them loose and I was the only one nearby she trusted to assist while we were far from home. It wasn’t a deliberate attempt to mislead or hurt me.”

“But—”

“It’s well-known that I’m good with a knot,” Juven teased, winking before she could whack his arm for being so distasteful. Leave it to Juven—he was heartbroken and treating it like a joke. “There’s no dress in the land that can stand against my fingers.”

“You’re the worst.”

“You adore me,” he said, nudging her with his elbow. “At least we have each other, my beautiful eyas.”

Magda’s heart broke all over again as she met his gaze, nodding along at the sentiment. Who needed love when you had good friends? Zoe would have Christie and live happily ever after. Asteria would live on with generation after generation of Sakans, loving them like family and nothing more. There was nothing they could do to change those facts, and at least on her part, she didn't  _want_ to change it even if it hurt.

At least she had Juven, here and now. His support had meant everything to her, and it grew more and more valuable by the day.

“I’ve thought more on what you said.”

Juven raised a brow. “About being good with a knot? I had no idea you held such interests, Lady Ellenstein. You never cease to surprise me.”

“If you’re attempting to get me to change my mind, it’s working.”

“I would never,” he assured her, eyes filled with intrigue. “Are you suggesting what I think you are?”

“Only temporarily,” Magda confirmed, cautious.

“Why the change of heart?”

“Now that he knows…” He’ll remember every time he sees her, she thought, knowing Juven would get it. There would be pity in Zoe’s stare, and that’s not what she wanted to see. “It’s better he believes I’ve moved on.”

“I feel the same. Especially after this last mishap,” Juven muttered, shaking his head. “Asteria has punished herself enough over this. She blames herself for my feelings, and I much prefer seeing a smile in my presence.”

Magda’s heart broke all over again at his candid words, steeling her resolve. “Let’s set out some rules then. My mother won’t accept a courtship unless you treat me with the utmost respect.”

Juven’s eyes were glittering in amusement. “As if I would ever treat a lady with anything but respect.”

As if…Sometimes even Magda didn’t know what to make of this man. Between his charming smile and vibrant eyes, it was easy to believe he spoke nothing but the truth—that his honeyed words were spoken from the heart. It was no wonder so many ladies were infatuated with him. Luckily she knew better than to fall for that. Viscount Sakan flirted out of courtesy, just like her mother warned her when they first arrived in Finsel. It was his way to win over the noble ladies, not to truly pursue them. There was only one woman in his heart, and that meant they were on the same page about this 'courtship'.

"We'll put on a show. Nothing more," she told him, her tone unwavering.

"I always did like a good show."

"You won't mislead anyone into thinking anything inappropriate is happening between us."

Juven pouted. "Fine. I can't promise they won't make any assumptions. We make a lovely pairing. Few will believe me capable of keeping my hands off you."

She snorted, surprisingly unworried about that. It would be a little tricky, largely due to the Viscount's reputation, but she trusted him explicitly. The man was a flirt, but he'd never been involved in any true scandals. They would find a way to convince the circle they were serious about one another without anything untoward being included in those rumors. It was all about keeping up appearances which was something Magda also excelled at. All they needed to do was pull it off until they were able to keep their heads high around Asteria and Zoe, if nothing else.

Plus, who knew? Maybe by the end of it, they'd be ready to move on with their lives. He could find a real love interest, and she could indulge a real suitor. Presently it didn't seem possible, but she'd long since learned to discard all expectations when it came to Juven Sakan. If anyone could help her through this hard time, it was him.


	5. Chapter 5

Three balls. Magda and Juven had shared their first dance at three consecutive balls, and that was all it took to get the circle talking. It mattered little that they hadn’t arrived together—it mattered less that they _never_ left together. All anyone seemed to care about was the fact that their eyes always found each other’s first, even in a crowded ballroom.

It would have been a romantic notion, Magda thought, aside from the fact it was her and _Juven._

“I take it you’ve heard Finsel’s latest bit of social gossip?” Juven asked, handing her the usual glass of wine that accompanied his greeting.

She accepted it with a genuine smile, refraining from rolling her eyes. “Apparently I’m due to be devastated any day now. They say you’ll break my heart.”

Juven snorted. “As if you’re so fragile.”

“As if I’d be so easily manipulated. A man like you couldn’t hope to charm a lady like me.”

“Oh? Is that a challenge, my beautiful eyas?”

Magda met his eyes, pleased to see he was amused rather than offended. “I know better than to challenge you.”

“I suppose you do. Luckily for you, I’m in no mood to raise the stakes just yet,” he admitted, eyes flittering around the room. “Rumor is, Duke Olineaux has taken issue with me.”

“What?” Magda asked, brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“In the Senate. He’s going to be petitioning against my next motion.”

_Strange._ Duke Olineaux was intelligent, of course, but he wasn’t particularly passionate about his work in the Senate. Of all the heads of the Four Families, he had always appeared to be the most easygoing. Whenever she even attempted to bring it up, he was onto the next subject like he could care less. There was always something more important or more interesting to discuss when they were together.

“You’re adorable when you’re confused,” Juven teased, smirking at her. “I think we both know the real reason he’s opposing me so suddenly.”

“You can’t mean…”

“Do you not see him glaring from across the room?”

Magda made it a point not to turn suddenly, putting on her best smile as if Juven had just said something particularly charming. She let her eyes scan the room casually, her heart stopping a moment as she met Zoe’s gaze.

He was watching her—watching _them._ His expression was severe, only lightening as he realized she’d found his gaze. He gave her a polite nod, one which she mirrored quickly. A silent promise to speak later.

“Remember who is courting you when you speak with him,” he said, eyeing her meaningfully.

She nodded in understanding, musing how this wasn’t part of the plan. It wasn’t about getting attention from Zoe or Asteria, it was about moving on. The fact that he looked upset only upset Magda in return, suddenly unsure if they were doing the right thing.

Was it selfish, letting everyone think she and Juven were pursuing one another?

“It’s too late to second guess ourselves,” Juven reminded her, shrugging like he was completely unbothered. “The best we can do is have fun while we’re getting away with it.”

With that, he was beckoning a maid over to take their drinks before shamelessly pulling her hand into his own. He placed a delicate kiss on the back of her hand, conveying a silent reminder.

Juven Sakan never did anything halfway.

“May I have this dance?”

As if he needed to ask. She smiled softly at him, nodding once before allowing him to pull her close as the music changed. It was chaos this time—literally. The steps he chose represented chaos and desire, and as she glided along by his side without missing a beat, she knew exactly what he meant.

“I wish I loved you,” Juven whispered into her ear, moving right into the next dance as the music changed without letting her out of his grasp.

Her heart ached at his confession, and she knew she felt the same. Juven was a good person despite what anyone else had to say about him. A good _friend._ More than anything, she wished she loved him too. She wished this dance of desire and chaos was more than a show, and that she cared more for pleasing the man who held her than the man watching them from across the room.

“You truly are the most beautiful woman in this room,” Juven told her as they finally stilled, his fingertips trailing the line of impropriety as his hands lingered on her waist. She opened her mouth to respond, but the words were lost as she held his serene gaze. “Thank you for the dance, Lady Ellenstein.”

“Ahem.”

Magda startled at the disruption, her gaze torn away from Juven’s prematurely. She hadn’t even realized Barbalius was at this ball until he stood by Juven’s side, eyeing the two politely.

“May I have the next dance?”

Before she could even open her mouth, Juven answered, “Apologies, Sir Knight. Lady Ellenstein’s next dance has already been claimed.”

“Oh? By who?” Barabalius asked, glancing around.

“I’ve been promised her next dance.”

“You just shared a dance.”

“I suspect we’ll share many more before the evening ends.”

“Viscount, if I may be so bold,” Magda interjected, looking to her friend with deep amusement, “perhaps I can spare a single dance for our Lionheart emissary?”

Juven, to his credit, played the part of suitor very well. He feigned his disappointment while simultaneous conceding to her wishes in a polite manner.

Thankfully her dance with Barabalius was as brief as usual—clinical, almost. Sometimes she wondered just how much of this was formality for the emissary and how much he actually enjoyed. She supposed it was like that for a good chunk of people at these balls. Dancing was only an art to people like Juven who put thought behind each action and each façade. To the rest, it was a social obligation.

“I fear I should warn you,” Barbalius said, brows furrowed as they came to a still and he stared down at her. “Rumors are circulating. I’d hate to see all your hard work undone by a single poor decision.”

“Excuse me?”

“Viscount Sakan. Surely even a country girl would know the kind of man he is.”

Magda raised a brow, surprised that Barbalius would be the first to approach her about this. He’d never been her biggest fan, always brushing her off at these balls like she was irrelevant. Now he cared?

“Viscount Sakan has been a friend to my family since the day we arrived in Finsel,” she told him diplomatically.

“Perhaps his friendship has clouded your judgment. There are many gentlemen in the circle who would treat you better than he would be capable.”

“Oh? And I suppose you’re among those gentlemen?”

Barbalius nodded. “Of course. We would both benefit from such an agreement. If we got together, you would have the support of the Red Top Knights.”

“Thank you for the dance, Sir Knight.” She smiled politely before excusing herself, uncaring of his dumbfounded expression. It wasn’t the first odd proposal she’d received since arriving in Finsel, but it was probably the worst. Her eyes roamed the room as she stepped away, growing anxious as she found her partner for the night.

Right next to Zoe Olineaux.

Whatever they were discussing looked quite serious, the duke’s demeanor darker than she was accustomed to seeing. For his part, Juven looked as relaxed as ever, a smile ghosting his lips every few words in their exchange.

He caught her staring, of course, winking at her from across the room even as she felt the eyes of many on them. It made her heart beat spike, unused to garnering so much attention for a reason like this. What was Juven thinking? Teasing her in private was one thing, but right in front of the entire ballroom?

She averted her gaze quickly, flustered by the attention. The rosy red cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by the next noble she spoke with, nor did her distracted gaze as she moved onto the next. Her rounds continued quickly, and Juven was _still_ with Duke Olineaux all the while.

What could they possibly be discussing at such length?

“I’ll fill you in on the way home, eyas. For now, your bright eyes have drawn me back to you,” Juven told her, smooth as always as he slid back by her side and practically read her mind.

“Did you resolve your senate dispute?”

“Of course not. I never discuss work at these balls. Not directly, at least.”

Magda frowned. “Did you resolve it indirectly?”

“I suspect I made it worse,” Juven responded casually. “Have you spoken with everyone on your list, my lovely lady?”

“Yes. I made the rounds while you were with Duke Olineaux.”

“What nonsense did Barbalius spout this time?”

Magda smiled fondly, deciding it was her turn to shrug like it was no big deal. “He proposed to me, I think.”

“You think?”

“Well, he warned me about you before telling me the benefits of an agreement with him—a political marriage, I assume.”

“And?” Juven asked.

“I thanked him for the dance and walked away.”

Juven feigned surprise, jaw hanging slightly. “Such a bold move, eyas. What would your mother say?”

“She’d ask me his rank in the knights and tell me I made a mistake if he’s in the top thirty.”

“I believe he ranks thirty-five.”

“Then I suppose I made the right move,” Magda told him with an amused smile.

“I suppose you did. After all, you’re being courted by a Viscount—why settle for anything less than you deserve when you could have me instead?”

“You’re pushing it, Juven.”

“I would never push a lady.”

They continued to banter back and forth, mostly about nothing at all. That was one of the things Magda liked most about Juven…They didn’t always have to be talking about _something._ There words were fun and light, a much needed break from the heavy topics and the uncomfortable stares. A few dances later, and it was almost like they were in their own little world, isolated from the pressures and judgment the circle always seemed to perpetuate.

"May I walk you home?" Juven asked as the hour grew late.

"You know what they'll say," Magda responded, shaking her head. What they'd  _assume._ The reality was, they would walk and talk, and then say their goodbyes. To everyone else, they'd assume Juven was having his way with her. "We should say our goodbyes here."

"Your purity is safe with me, eyas," he teased, eyes glittering that same, bright way they always did when he looked at her. "I only take what's given to me, and I ask for nothing more."

"Then perhaps you should have been more careful when building your reputation."

"It's easiest if everyone believes I'm nothing more than a playboy," Juven shrugged, revealing what she already knew. It was all part of the image, allowing him to get away with a lot more than anyone even realized. The things people said in front of him, not knowing he was cataloging every detail to use and exploit in his business deals...Juven really was a smart young man. "Are you certain you'd rather walk home unaccompanied? It's late, and I worry about beautiful ladies wandering the streets at this hour."

Magda hummed thoughtfully. It's not as if her mother would allow him inside at this hour, and they really would just be walking. His company had kept her spirits elevated all night, too. Having it last a little longer sounded nice, and so she found herself conceding a nod. "Don't be surprised if my mother scolds you at the door."

"I'd expect nothing less from Eliza."

They laughed together, the image of her mother's sharp stare easy to conjure for them both. He helped her with her coat on their way out like gentleman would before offering her his arm. She accepted, of course, smiling up at him indulgently as they began to walk together. It wasn't until they were about halfway that she realized she never had swung back to talk to Zoe herself, a pang of guilt blossoming in her chest.

"He'll be fine, Magda," Juven assured her. "He thought what everyone else thought—that you'd fallen victim to my charm, and that I would inevitably hurt you. He was worried. I told him there was no need for concern."

"It didn't look like he believed you."

"I suspect not. It's not as if it's any of his business though."

Magda frowned, only feeling worse at his words. Right or wrong, Juven had a point. That didn't mean she had to like it. "Why was he so concerned?"

"He called you a dear friend. Someone he didn't want to see become just another name on my list."

Maybe those words should have made her feel better, but somehow she felt worse. A dear friend. She knew that was all she was, and she knew that was all she would ever be to Zoe, but it still stung to hear it put so bluntly. Maybe he even felt responsible for her sudden decision to allow Juven to court her—like his kind denial of her affections had caused her to make this 'careless' decision. It was little wonder that he would jump to her defense by scolding Juven.

"Eyas," Juven muttered, shaking his head when she didn't even look up at him. "We've shared a lovely evening. There's no need to spoil it with these thoughts."

"Asteria wasn't there tonight," Magda realized. "You usually invite her."

"She doesn't require my invitation. If she wished to attend, she would have."

"You didn't want her to see you with me."

"It's not as if she hasn't already heard the rumors," Juven shrugged. "She congratulated me. Of all the fine ladies Finsel has to offer, she said you were the brightest star among them."

Magda found herself staring up at the stars as she thought about that, knowing exactly how her 'kind' words likely made Juven feel. Rejected. Unwanted. Things that such a kind man should never feel. It was amazing the impact a few simple words could have on a person, even if they were intended to be simple pleasantries. If she and Juven really were together, those same words may have brought a smile to his face. Why did it have to be this way?

It wasn't until he came to a stop that she realized they were back at her estate, the thought still swirling in her head as endless as the stars she was staring up at. "Eyas." His steady voice brought her back down, meeting his gaze and seeing that same, profound understanding like he knew exactly what she was thinking and how she felt. "Thank you for a lovely evening."

"I should be thanking you. I don't think I would have been able to endure Zoe's stare without your support."

"His stare wouldn't have been so cold if I hadn't been by your side."

She shrugged it off, releasing his arm and readying herself to step inside. It was only a matter of time before her mother heard their voices and sent a maid out to see what was taking so long, undoubtedly already hearing their voices in the doorway. "Are we attending the Senate ball together tomorrow night?"

"I wouldn't want anyone else by my side," Juven agreed easily.

His hands were on her waist before she could reach for the doorknob, bringing her world to a halt as she eyed him questioningly. It was the same touch they shared during their dances, yet somehow more intimate without the music playing. She waited for him to say something, finding herself speechless for a moment as he stared down at her with unwavering intensity.

"May I kiss you?"

Her eyes went wide. "Why would I allow it?"

"To see how it feels," he answered, like it was nothing.

"It will feel any other kiss, no better or no worse."

"Then there's no harm." Magda snorted, her inelegance somehow only spurring him on. "Shall I take that as a yes?"

"Yes," she agreed, more out of curiosity than anything else.

He grinned before stepping in closer than before, leaning down and grazing her lips with his own in a way that could only be described as delicate. The disappointment was almost instantaneous as he stepped back, confirming what she had already suspected. Lips were lips, and his kiss was no better than any of the few others she had experienced in her life. It was chaste, and she had only found herself breathless in anticipation—not as a result of his touch. She had always imagined kissing a lover would be much more passionate. That she'd feel it from head to toe, the feelings pounding through her body to the beat of her heart.

"I hate to say it, but I think you're overrated, Viscount," Magda told him, deciding it was her turn to wink at him for a change.

He feigned offense, hands dropping from her body in a huff. "Yes, well, I believe your ranking just dropped in my Collection."

"That's not fair! I worked hard for my 9."

"Hardly," he retorted, hands on his hips. "All you did was bat your eyelashes at my uncle. It was his raving that that boosted you from an 8."

"I did no such thing! If he was raving about me, it was because my impeccable sense of style and my keen eye for fashion."

"Well, I'm not so easily impressed," Juven told her, eyes sweeping her up and down. It was only his smile that betrayed him, making it clear he was far from serious. "You wear too many layers."

"Each layer has a color or trinket that raises my chic. If you were a lady, you'd understand."

"Ah, yes, the infamous lady's battles. I'd rather see your bare shoulder than see you wear these ridiculous ruffles to win a petty match."

Magda looked down at the ruffles on her jacket, unable to suppress a laugh. They were a bit excessive, but it wasn't as if she wore the jacket all evening. And anyway, it wasn't as if he didn't constantly have a bit of ruffled fabric around his neck, hanging down over his chest and accenting the Sakan colors seamlessly. She reached for it, grasping it loosely in her hands and raising a challenging brow. "You wear ruffles, too."

"If you wish for me to undress, all you have to do is ask and I'll remove any layer," Juven told her, shameless as always. Something told her he was being serious about that bit, but she knew where to draw the line in this little game. Before she could release the fabric from her fingers, his hand was around hers, pulling her a step closer. "Let's try this again."

His mouth was on her before she could get in a retort, laughing softly into the kiss even as he used the opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth. Her heart rate spiked at that, never having exchanged a kiss that went beyond the one they first shared. He chuckled softly at her sudden bout of nervousness, not seeming to mind one bit as he explored her mouth with practiced ease. It took a minute, but she found she didn't mind it either, meeting his tongue tentatively at first. This was new to her, but not so different from their previous kiss. Lips were still just lips, and her anxious heart seemed to settle as she grew more comfortable in his embrace. Her fingers tightened on the silly cravat around his neck, keeping him close as she grew more and more emboldened. Kissing this way was kind of fun. It was only the sound of the door finally opening that had her leaping out of his touch, face flustered as her maid looked between the two with wide eyes.

"I should go," Juven realized, winking at Magda and leaving her with her scandalized maid.

No doubt word of their embrace would spread like fire now that someone had witnessed it, her own maid just as likely to spread the gossip as any lady in the circle. Maybe that was Juven's intention all along. She found she didn't mind, knowing that her reputation would withstand it all so long as they were never alone in an estate together. If they were going to be 'courting', then they may as well have some fun with it while they could.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for sticking with me on this! Hopefully at least a few of you are still enjoying it. Any kudos/comments/etc are appreciated.

It seemed like Juven was having a hard time keeping his hands to himself after their first kiss, always finding their way to the small of her back or sneaking around her waist as they made their rounds together at the balls they attended. At first it had been a bit much, but it wasn’t like his touch bothered her. She knew exactly what he knew—that they adored each other, as friends, and that the touches meant little in the grand scheme of things.

His heart still belonged to Asteria, as was evident when he pulled away every time her eyes found the pair during these balls.

“She’s not trying to hurt you,” Magda reminded him, her tone soft as she watched him sulk behind his indifferent façade. Asteria had been pulled away by Alminas again, likely to talk about the same subject as usual. Magda had inadvertently eavesdropped on them on more than one occasion, and she knew Alminas’ heart was still broken over the loss of his wife. “They’re just friends.”

“Yes, but it’s his words that keep her away from me,” Juven sighed. “She doesn’t want to suffer the way he suffers.”

“Are you sure that’s it?”

Juven frowned at her, genuine displeasure on his face for a change. “She told me as much.”

“Surely you realize it’s more than that,” Magda told him, her tone soft as she tried to put it gently. From her conversations with Asteria, it was a complicated subject for the elf. It wasn’t that she didn’t find Juven charming—nor did his persistence fail to impress her. There was just more to it than that. “She watched you grow up. You were like a brother to her for years, as many generations of Sakans have been.”

“If you’re trying to make me feel better, it’s not working.”

“I’m trying to help you. We’re in this together, aren’t we?”

Juven’s eyes flickered over to the Olineaux’s, narrowing as he watched Zoe and Christie laughing as they usually did while they were lost in their own little world. It pulled on Magda’s heart, but she stood her ground. She didn’t follow his gaze, not needing to this time.

“We are,” he agreed with a sigh, pulling her to the dance floor. His head wasn’t in the game, clearly, but he still managed not to miss a step as they kept at it. “She allowed me to bed her once.”

_“What?”_

“It was everything I hoped for. She’s well versed in the art of making love,” he revealed, sighing softly like he hadn’t just said something so revealing. “When we were wrapped up together, I thought…”

“Juven,” Magda murmured, face red as she processed his admission. Just because they were friends didn’t mean he ever discussed his exploits with her, let alone one so personal. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I think she believed I’d get it out of my system if I had her once,” he admitted. “I don’t know how to make her understand these feelings are real. She’s more than 10 in my Collection, she’s everything.”

Asteria was the only 10 in his Collection, and that alone spoke volumes. She was more than some infatuation. Juven Sakan was many things—a player. A poet. A professional. He was passionate about life and those he wanted to share his with. No doubt he would have given her everything if she just said the words he longed to hear.

“Focus on me,” Magda tried, holding onto him a bit more insistently.

“Do you know where I got my reputation from?”

“Trips to the whorehouses.”

“Yes. I used to meet Asteria there—not to bed her, but to talk in a place where none would assume she had fallen victim to my charms. Instead they assumed I was there for reasons of my own while Asteria would slip in and out unnoticed,” he explained, which Magda already knew from back before they were truly friends. She’s been tasked to pry into Juven’s personal life, something they both laughed at not that it was behind them. “She stopped showing up after the night she allowed me to have her.”

“And?”

“And I kept going,” he replied, the implication leaving her uneasy. “The only distraction you could provide me right now is one you shouldn’t offer. I’m not as pure as you seem to believe, Magda.”

She understood his meaning immediately but found herself eyeing him with a stubborn glare. “There are other ways to distract you. We’ve been at this for weeks now, and I know you’ve been enjoying yourself.”

“I enjoy our little game, but there are moments when even your sweet touch can’t help me.”

“What can I do, then?”

“Having you by my side is enough for now,” he told her, though she got the distinct impression he was just trying to appease her before his words caused any true offense. “I’m sorry if I’ve upset you.”

“You haven’t. I understand, remember?”

Juven forced a smile. “I know. Let’s talk about something more enjoyable.”

“Such as?”

“Such as my uncle. I hear he’s the latest to try to talk you out of this courtship?”

Magda stifled a laugh. _That_ was the biggest understatement of the night. “What was it he said? Oh, yes, that a mentally healthy lady wouldn’t waste her affection on you. Or your father, apparently.”

Juven laughed at that, genuinely this time. “I suppose he’s right.”

“Yes, well, that doesn’t say much for me. He thinks I’m insane.”

“Perhaps you are, spending time with me when you could have nearly any man of your choosing in this room.”

“I’d choose you every time,” Magda insisted easily.

“We really should find you a true suitor,” Juven responded with a frown. “You deserve more than this.”

“I’m not allowed to fall in love, remember?”

“Yes, yes. Your mother and her precious rules.” He rolled his eyes, unimpressed. “It’s not as if we haven’t broken several these last few weeks. Isn’t there one prohibiting any physical contact with a man?”

“We haven’t crossed any lines.”

“No?” Juven responded, arching a brow. “Your mother would take no issue with the way I kissed you last night?”

A fierce blush was back on her face at the memory, their new nightly tradition having gotten a bit out of hand. It had started out innocently enough—experimental, even. It became something they did from time to time, usually at the end of the night when he walked her home. There was something comforting about finding solace in a friend, and Juven was the ideal candidate because he understood it meant nothing. Both their hearts belonged elsewhere, and so it felt harmless enough to exchange a kiss here and there.

Last night they had gotten a bit out of hand, though.

“You looked lovely,” he told her, smirking as the blush continued to spread across her face. “Your face was that very same shade of red when the maid caught us.”

He’d had her up against the door, his body pressed closer to hers than it ever had been before. Not once had his hands wandered away from her waist though, gripping her firmly like he was afraid of what might happen if he let go. Her own hands had been locked around his neck, keeping him close and encouraging every second of it right until the door swung open yet again.

Her poor maid. They’d tumbled into the estate, his quick reflex the only thing preventing them from hitting the floor.

“My mother scolded me for an hour,” Magda admitted, laughing softly at the memory. “I’m surprised she allowed me back out this evening with you.”

“My father may have had something to do with it,” Juven responded with displeasure. “I can’t say much for that man, but his influence over your mother has proven useful. He reminded her of his assistance during the Ellenstein’s time of need.”

_“What?”_

“It seems he wishes to encourage this union.”

Magda’s eyes went wide, even as Juven grimaced. “Union?”

“Our little plan may be working too well. I’m afraid it might be time for me to break your heart, eyas,” Juven warned her, his tone almost apologetic.

For some reason those words stung, not dissimilar to the way they may have hurt if they were really together. She found herself with narrow eyes, not having any of it. She thought they were on the same page about all of this.

“Why?”

“I enjoy your company, eyas, but our goal here was never marriage,” Juven explained with a shrug. “You deserve better.”

“You said it yourself—you’re a Viscount. If anything, you’re the one who deserves better.”

“This is where you and I differ, then. I’m in love with Asteria. The depths of my heart belong to her,” he said, that distant look back in his eyes as he looked to where the woman in his heart had walked off with Alminas. “You’re infatuated with Zoe Olineaux—not in love with him. It’s a fleeting emotion.”

Magda huffed, not quite able to deny it. “So because I’m not in love, I can’t understand?”

“You _can,_ but you can also move on. When I marry, it will be purely political. For status,” Juven told her, blunter than usual. “You still stand a chance at finding something more than that.”

“Half the men in this room repulse me,” Magda admitted, shaking her head. “The other half I’ve no interest in pursuing. Your uncle’s the only one who doesn’t have one of the fatal flaws, and we both know I won’t be marrying him.”

“You joke and call them fatal flaws, but really, they’re excuses to keep you from getting attached. You’re constantly afraid of what your mother might think.”

“That’s not true!”

“What’s wrong with Barbalius, then? He’s handsome. He’s not a bad person, despite what I may have said about him in the past. He holds a respectable position, and most of the circle’s ladies are vying for his hand. You turned him down without thought.”

“He’s rude! He calls me a country girl, and—”

“He teases you. So do I, or did you forget, _eyas?”_

“I don’t need to justify my decisions on this subject,” Magda decided firmly.

“Nor do I. This is a pointless conversation—it’s not as if you actually want to marry me.”

“I’m not saying I do,” she clarified. “I just think it’s a silly reason to call off our courtship.”

“Marriage is the ultimate goal in a courtship.”

“We haven’t even hit the proper amount of time to expect an engagement.”

“You’d rather continue until we’re expected to be engaged, and then call it off?”

Magda mulled it over a moment before giving a nod. “We’re having fun.”

“If we end it now, I can simply say I lost interest. I’ll take full responsibility. It won’t be so simple if we wait.”

_Oh._ She realized quickly that he had a fair point this time. The longer they waited, the more explanation would be required. Even if not to the whole circle, her mother would demand answers. So would his father, it seemed. There would be a lot of difficult questions to answer. The thought alone made her anxious, her heart clenching uncomfortably in her chest. It _would_ be easier to end their little game now.

“I don’t want this to be over,” she confessed despite it all.

“Shall we make this more interesting, then?” he challenged, raising a brow.

“How?”

“I propose a wager—one that I’d bet my family’s name on.”

“I don’t have much of comparable worth.”

“I desire nothing more than your beautiful smile in exchange for my victory,” he told her, winking before she could dismiss him. He really was overdoing it this time. “Are you interested?”

“What’s the wager?”

“You seem so sure playing this little game with me is a good idea—that you have no interest in any of the men in Finsel's social circle. I bet I _can_ win your hand in marriage,” he told her, sipping his wine like he hadn’t said anything of note. “If I win, you show me your most dazzling smile. A real one, when I put the ring on your finger.”

Magda raised a brow. “And if I win?”

“You get my family’s name,” he shrugged, grinning when she barked out an inelegant laugh. It was enough to draw more unwanted attention from around the room, but that didn’t seem to bother either of them.

“You don’t seem to understand how bets work, Viscount,” Magda teased, knowing he knew damn well. Leave it to Juven Sakan to propose a wager where he only accounted for a single outcome. The man had probably never lost a wager in his whole life. “How about this? If I win, I get to pick out the woman you _actually_ marry.”

“Oh? Perhaps we should define the terms then. How do you win?”

“By denying you, of course,” Magda told him. “You only get to ask me once.”

Juven’s eyes were dancing as he nodded in easy agreement. “I’d best time my proposal well, then.”

“It’s settled then. You’ll either marry me, or the woman of my choosing.”

“So long as you don’t choose—”

“Ah,” Magda interjected, silencing him with a stern look. “It’s too late to amend the terms.”

“I’ll never forgive you if you try to marry me off to Lynna.”

The idea had its merit, Magda thought, but it wasn’t even close to what she had in mind. “Believe it or not, I care about you, Juven. I wouldn’t choose someone unpleasant.”

“I suppose I’ve got nothing to worry about regardless. I intend to win this, eyas,” he declared, and right on cue he was pulling the wine from her hands. He called one of the maids over with the flick of a hand, sending her away with their glasses before giving Magda his full attention once more. “Let’s give them something to gossip about.”

There was no time to react before her hand was being raised to his lips, a delicate kiss on the back of it. The move had become something of a signature for him, always drawing the attention of the ball room the way any public display of affection would. “You look lovely this evening, Lady Ellenstein," he told her, louder than necessary.

If she could have stopped her damn face from flushing, she would have, but it was a lost cause under his suddenly serious stare. The eyes of the room were on them, and that meant all she could do was respond the way any noble lady would—without any unimpressed retort. “Thank you, Viscount Sakan.”

“May I have this dance?”

“I’d be honored.”

She let him pull her into his arms, going through the motions with him effortlessly. They seemed to get better every time they hit the floor together, adding steps to each sequence until it was no longer appropriate to continue without a break. She couldn’t bring herself to get into it this time though, every step more like a chore than anything else.

It was strange, really. Dancing used to be something she looked forward to on these evenings out with Juven. Now she found herself more eager for the walk home, when they were away from prying eyes and ears.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I just finished writing the ending of this fic, and I'm very excited to say I'll have the rest edited and posted soon! Onto the next fic in my free time <3
> 
> Hope you all enjoy, I'll have the last few chapters up soon!

There were only so many balls where she could get away with avoiding certain people before it wasn’t worth it. Before she inadvertently offended someone or caused some ridiculous rumor. Avoidance often became a ‘dispute’, at least in the eyes of those who didn’t know any better.

In this case, she was apparently feuding with Asteria.

“Just go say hello,” Juven shrugged, his indifference a thinly veiled acceptance.

He acted like he didn’t care, but he did. He cared that the rumors had pitted the two women against one another when the reality was, Magda and Asteria had always gotten along without issue. He also cared that Magda hadn’t so much as greeted his family’s elf since their little charade had begun, which only fueled the rumors.

“Juven,” she muttered, shooting him a glare as he nudged her in the right direction. “If she wanted to speak with me, she would.”

“If you don’t care about how it impacts you, at least consider her feelings. You’re causing her strife.”

Magda’s glare softened into something more akin to offense, though she wasn’t sure why. There was nothing surprising about Juven Sakan prioritizing Asteria’s feelings over all others, nor was there anything surprising about the way he didn’t even seem to know that was what he was doing.

The rumors _did_ impact her. Asteria had been a good friend, and the gossip made it awkward to even meet her eyes. It wasn’t like Asteria was going out of her way to greet Magda either. If anything, Asteria was the first to look away when their eyes met. The first to walk in the other direction when Magda got too close. Had Juven not noticed, or did he choose not to care?

“Fine,” she conceded.

It wouldn’t do for her and her ‘suitor’ to be seen bickering, so instead she acted the part yet again. She put on her best smile even as she wanted to cringe when he mirrored it. Their ‘adoring’ glances at one another were sickening at times, and this was definitely one of those times. Some husband he’d be, sending her off to go appease the woman he _wished_ he could marry.

All the more reason she knew she’d win their little bet.

She made her way across yet another ball room, head held high as she prepared for the audience their exchange would garner. It seemed Asteria noticed her approach too late, stuck in her current position with no opportunity to evade. Judging by the look in her eyes, she wanted to disappear onto the balcony.

“Good evening, Miss Asteria.”

“Lady Ellenstein,” Asteria responded with a polite nod.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you at this ball,” she admitted, knowing it wasn’t the elf’s typical crowd.

“Juven invited me here. He didn’t want me to feel lonely at home.” There was a distant look in her eyes as she scanned the room, and Magda followed her gaze right to Juven. “Elves don’t fear loneliness. This boy…”

Magda swallowed, at a loss for what to say. It was almost like they were having a private moment, holding each other’s gazes from across the room. Not once had she felt out of place next to either of these two until this moment, and she found herself wondering what the hell they were even doing.

Asteria looked _pained,_ and that was never the goal here.

“Asteria?” she tried, surprised when the elf looked back at her without hesitation. “To be honest, I much prefer seeing you smile.”

“Hmm?”

“Juven and I, we’re not—”

“I know,” Asteria interjected softly. “You’re a good friend, Lady Ellenstein. Stay by his side a while longer.”

“He loves you.”

“He’s stubborn. I’m not sure he knows what it means to love someone just yet.”

“Do you love him?”

Asteria let out a short sigh, the ghost of a smile pulling at her lips. “Of course. Juven is family, the same way I love Barabara and Barris—the same way I love Langwon.”

“But—”

“The Sakans are a family of poets. Do you believe he’s the first to grow infatuated with me?”

Infatuated. There was that word again, except this time it didn’t resonate with her. When it came to her and Zoe Olineaux, she couldn’t deny that maybe her affections hadn’t been much more than an infatuation. The result of a man being everything she wanted, despite not being one she actually wanted to be with. How could she? Zoe had been right to say his loyalties to Christie were one of the things she admired most in him. It was just the idea of him—the idea of a man like him. That was what she wanted more than anything.

Juven though—he _loved_ Asteria. He worshipped her in a way that would make most women’s hearts race. Just the look in his eyes when he mentioned her name was enough to make that abundantly clear, yet she was brushing it off as a simple crush.

“It’s more than that,” Magda insisted.

“Because he’s stubborn,” she reiterated, shaking her head. “He may be the most persistent Sakan I’ve ever met. That doesn’t change anything. We’re family—I could never view him as anything more.”

“Then why do you look so upset when you see me with him?”

Asteria’s brows shot up, and she paused a moment like she was considering it. “The closer you and Juven become, the further he is from me. It happens with them all. I watch them grow—we bond. We share our days as family. Then one day they’re ready to start a family of their own.”

“Juven and I aren’t starting a family. We’re not even—”

“Perhaps he’s not the only stubborn one.”

Magda frowned. “He could make you happy if you let him.”

“The same could be said of you. I’ve lived a very long time—I’ve seen others play the game you’re playing with him. Very rarely does it end the way you intended when you began.”

“How does it end, then?”

“That’s up to you. For now, I’ll be here watching. I wish you luck, Lady Ellenstein.”

Asteria sent her a cryptic smile at that, bidding her farewell as Magda continued to think it over. It felt like she had more questions than answers, but that wasn’t such a surprise. Elves could be a very cryptic people, and Asteria was no exception.

Before she could even think to get back to Juven, she was being approached by several other nobles, most of which never caught her alone nowadays. In recent weeks it was nearly impossible to split her and Juven apart at these balls, and it looks like they were all ceasing the opportunity to speak with him privately as well.

Vultures.

Magda greeted them politely, knowing she had little choice at this point. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to them anyway, it was more that she wanted to talk to Juven again. To vent and tell him how he deserved better. He deserved someone who returned his love wholeheartedly.

Instead she patiently indulged the crowd, her heart stilling in her chest as she realized Zoe was patiently awaiting his turn as well. It didn’t take long for his imposing presence to startle away the others, the man of her desires giving her a broad smile.

“You are a woman worth every attention, Lady Ellenstein,” he greeted, his deep voice resonating a warmth inside her. “It’s been some time since you’ve greeted me at one of these balls.”

“I feared it may be awkward after our last conversation.”

“I know. That’s why I didn’t force the issue—I tried to give you space.”

She smiled softly. Leave it to Zoe Olineaux to be considerate, as always. “Thank you.”

“You seem happy now,” he noted, raising a brow. “Are you sure about him?”

“Juven would never do me any harm,” she answered honestly. “I can’t say with certainty how this courtship will end, but I know he cares about me.”

“He seems more respectful of you than most. I’ve not heard any rumors lately about trips to the whorehouses, at least.”

“He’s not as bad as you seem to believe. We’ve been friends a long time.”

“That doesn’t bother you?” the duke asked, nodding toward the balcony. Magda’s gaze flickered to where he was looking, blinking in surprise as she saw Juven and Asteria headed outside together. They were a step too close, as usual, but it wasn’t inappropriate. “I see the way he looks at her still.”

“She’s his family’s elf,” Magda tried to play it off with a shrug. “Why should I mind if they spend time together?”

“You know as well as I do how he yearns for her.”

“And you know as well as I do that she doesn’t return his affections.”

“Is that what this is about? You’re finding solace in one another?”

Magda shook her head even as the guilt blossomed in her chest under his heavy stare. “I adore Juven. He’s kind and charismatic—funny. We can talk for hours without a dull moment.”

“I see…”

“Even in silence, his company brings me peace,” she tried to explain, not quite understanding it all herself. “He keeps me on my toes.”

“I feel the same way when I’m with my wife,” Zoe mused, hand on his chin. “You’ve truly fallen for the Sakan boy.”

“I wouldn’t call it that. We just understand one another.”

“You’re smiling,” he noted, and she realized that he was right. “I hope I’m wrong about him, then.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s not the type to stay with one woman for more than a few days. It may only be a matter of time before someone else catches his eye.”

Magda huffed, not pleased by the implication. “Are you saying he’ll grow bored of me?”

“I’m saying he’s like a child. He always wants the newest, shiniest toy.”

“You don’t know the Viscount the way I do. His loyalties run as deep as yours when he cares for someone.”

“We’ll see about that. Remind him what I told him if he ever gives you any trouble.”

She opened her mouth to ask what exactly that was, but it was too late. The duke was already walking away, leaving her feeling oddly annoyed. It wasn’t a feeling she was accustomed to associating with Zoe, nor was it one she preferred.

Magda humored the next few nobles who approached her, slowly making her own rounds away from her current position and closer to the balcony. They’d been out there a long time, and she had half a mind to go interrupt them. What was it he told her every time she gazed at Zoe a moment too long?

_Remember who is courting you, eyas._

Maybe it was his turn to remember who he was courting. With a deep breath, she slipped onto the balcony, brow furrowed as she tried to figure out what she would say to the two. To her surprise, Juven stood there alone, leaning against the balcony and staring out at the stars.

“She left already,” he explained, not bothering to look in Magda’s direction.

“Oh,” she breathed, not quite sure if she was relieved or upset to hear it. “What did you two discuss?”

“You,” Juven answered easily.

“And?”

“And nothing. She knows what we’re up to, and she thought it was time to tell me,” he said, finally sparing her a glance. “What did the duke have to say?”

Magda blinked, not sure how he even knew she had stopped and talked to Zoe when he had been out here the whole time. “Not much. He’s wary of you and your intentions toward me.”

Juven snorted, gesturing for her to come closer.  “Let me guess,” he said, pulling her into his arms and holding her close to his chest, “he threatened to destroy the Sakan family if I hurt you?”

“Not in so many words,” Magda admitted with a softy laugh. She rested her head against his chest as he held her, the steady beat of his heart soothing away any worries. “Let’s stop talking about them.”

“What would you prefer to discuss, eyas?”

“Anything,” she shrugged into his embrace, not minding one bit as he chuckled at her vague suggestion. “Is our bet still on?”

“Of course. Are you asking because you’re prepared to say yes?”

“I’m asking because I think I’ve picked the perfect lady for you when this is all over,” Magda countered, staring up at him pointedly. “If you’re curious who, you’ll have to propose now so I can win.”

“I’ve got far more than a proposal on my mind right now,” Juven admitted, leaning down and brushing his lips against hers. She shivered at the light touch, blinking in surprise—they’d kissed a lot by now, yes, but never while they were at a ball still. “You are everything I want in a woman, Magda Ellenstein.”

“Flattery won’t help you win.”

“I speak the truth. You’re perfect, eyas. I’d be lucky to call you my wife someday.”

She snorted, thinking to herself that he had that backwards. He knew why, too—she just wasn’t the perfect noble lady that she pretended to be. Not in front of him, and especially not at home. How often did she forego any makeup? How often did she have a slip of the tongue? At least half of what she said would be considered improper by anyone’s standard, and she routinely infuriated her own mother by going against her wishes. Just last night, she’d broken rules 48 and 49 in a single sitting and she hadn’t even realized until after the fact when she was scolded for it.

“I’d be an awful wife,” she admitted, feeling just as amused as he looked at the confession. “Especially to you. I’ve never been able to keep the act up around you.”

“Have you considered the possibility that I don’t desire an act?” Juven countered, raising a brow. “I adore you exactly as you are, eyas.”

“You say that now. You’ve yet to see me eat an entire cake all by myself.”

“You should consider yourself lucky to be courted by me then,” he insisted. “I’m friends with the owner of Finsel’s finest bakery.”

“Well, you may have just increased your odds of winning.”

It was Juven’s turn to snort, the feign of offense all over his face. “I’m a _Viscount—_ Head of one of the Four Families. I’m charming and—”

“Pompous.”

“And incredibly handsome,” he added, bopping her nose with the warning finger he held up. “You’ve zero reason to deny me, and yet what attracts you most is my connection to a bakery.”

“I’m a lady with simple tastes,” Magda shrugged, biting back her laughter as he ‘glared’ down at her. “Don’t give me that look! You know I adore you as well, Juven.”

His pretend glare softened at that, the look on his face tender as their eyes met. It was strange. Solemn, almost. The lightest from their conversation seemed forgotten as they stood there, and all the question was right there on the tip of her tongue. What was he thinking? There was something on his mind, clearly, and she was overcome with the need to know what it was.

For once in her life, she couldn’t get the words out. Instead she stood there helplessly, willing him to say whatever it was he needed to say. By the time his lips parted to voice it, her heart was racing impatiently in her chest and she was nearly ready to demand he speak his mind.

“You’re my best friend, Magda Ellenstein.”

His hands were on hers before she could blink, encompassing them with all the warmth and familiarity she associated with this man. The smile grew on her face as he leaned down to kiss her once more, certain that she felt exactly the same. Somehow, some way, Juven Sakan had become her best friend, too. This goofball—this ridiculous man with his charming smiles and his playboy act. He was everything she should be wary of in a man, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything but happy every time she was in his presence.

Her heart jumped in her chest as their lips met, silencing every stray thought and worry. All that mattered was him and her—the press of his lips. The way he held her as she tip toed up to return the kiss more comfortably. The way it felt _so good_ to be there in his arms, uncaring about where they were or who may see. Like there was nothing she could say or do to displease him because he understood her so well, the same way she understood him.

She’d never felt so relaxed in her entire life.

It didn’t quite hit her until he pulled back, her eyes opening in alarm as her heart continued to hammer away in her chest. This wasn’t normal. They had fun kissing—they made a game of exchanging light touches and glances when they were together. But _this._ It just wasn’t the same.

“Shall I accompany you home, eyas?” he offered, polite and unaffected as usual.

For a moment she was breathless, her mind reeling as she attempted to sort this all out on the spot. Whatever she did, she needed to act normally at least. He didn’t need to know what was going on insider her head. “Yes, please. Perhaps no more kissing for the night though.”

“Have I done something wrong?”

“Of course not. I just thought we ought to give the poor maid a break for once. I’m not sure she can handle being scandalized so often.”

He hummed thoughtfully, seeming to accept her answer for the most part. There were still questions in his eyes, but he didn’t voice them as he offered her his arm. The walk was quiet this time, his pace a step slower than usual like he was giving her the chance to say whatever it was she was holding back.

As if she could explain when it didn’t even make sense to her just yet.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got so distracted by my new fic that I forgot to update this one >.< I'm off from work for a few days so I'm trying to jam in as much writing as possible before I'm swamped again. Hope you enjoy!

Her heart rate always seemed to increase in his presence. Sometimes when he gave her a certain look, it would stop entirely in her chest, leaving her breathless—she felt like she might just burst if she so much as blinked some days, unable to tear her gaze away.

Goddess, he really was an attractive man. The green in his eyes was so striking, and the way he always had a smirk pulling at his lips…It was no wonder he could get away with anything he wanted. Even with her, when she knew better—he really was a difficult man to deny. Never had he ever taken advantage of this fact though, not with her at least. Instead he indulged her, always, keeping her company and filling her in on his schemes and his vision.

How had she gotten so lucky? Whatever he saw in her, she didn’t quite understand it. He had chosen her as a friend and confidant when he could have done so with anyone else. There were far better choices when it came to the nobility—families who had been in the Senate a lot longer than hers, who had far better standing. Yet he insisted on remaining by her side. It made her inexplicably happy to know that he was so loyal to her, and she felt equally loyal to him in return.

What did all this mean though?

“It can’t be,” she muttered to herself, letting out a quiet sigh as she studied herself in the mirror.

She looked as flustered as she felt, her cheeks dusted with pink as she thought about the implications. It hadn’t seemed possible, but she was running out of reasons to deny it. The truth was staring her in the face, sending her heart into overdrive as she dared to admit it to herself for the first time.

She _fancied_ Juven Sakan.

“He loves Asteria,” Magda reminded herself, watching herself nod in the mirror. It was like an affirmation, and with it she steeled her resolve. “Tonight.”

They’d have to end their little game, she decided. It wouldn’t be right to continue even if these feelings had barely blossomed—not when they started strictly due to the fact he believed there would be no confusion between them. No expectation of love.

She _still_ didn’t expect anything, but it felt like a lie to play along when he didn’t have the slightest clue that her heart had betrayed their pact.

“Magda,” her mother called, and she knew that meant he was here.

It was time for their ‘date’. The courting process entailed more than just balls, naturally. They had spent countless afternoons together since this all began, dining together or going to various shops or events. Today they were supposed to go horseback riding together, which was an activity she had been excited about until the day finally arrived.

Now she didn’t know how it would go. They were both well-versed in the show—in putting on an act for the circle to see. They would be alone for this date, and she had yet to master the art of fooling Juven Sakan. Sometimes she could swear he saw right through her.

Would he be able to see right into her heart as well?

“You look lovely, as always, Lady Ellenstein,” Juven greeted, a broad smile on his face as his eyes swept her up and down just once rather than his usual lengthy stare—her mother was watching the exchange, after all. She was wearing the breeches and tunic he’d sent over for her, which he undoubtedly noticed. “For you.”

In his hand was a single rose, pink in color—the same shade his family preferred to wear each day. The stem was trimmed short, not a thorn to be seen on it, and she knew right away what he intended. She accepted it with a genuine smile, knowing he was effectively staking his claim.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you, Viscount,” she said, tucking it behind her ear.

“Ah, and just when I believed you couldn’t look any more vibrant,” Juven told her with a growing grin. “The Sakan Family color suits you, my fair lady.”

She was sure her cheeks were pink again, matching the rose as she glanced up at him. All of this effort, just to put on a show for her mother. What she wouldn’t give for this to be real, for just a moment.

“I have a carriage waiting outside,” he continued after a moment, glancing over to her mother. “We’ll head directly to the stables, and then share a meal before returning for the evening. I expect to have her home before sunset.”

“I trust you won’t need a chaperone this time?” her mother asked, glancing between the two pointedly.

“I would never put my lady’s reputation in question.”

Her mother held his stare for a long moment before nodding. Leave it to Juven—he could even fool Eliza Ellenstein. He really was unfairly good at this.

“This courtship has been lengthy,” her mother noted, glancing between them. “Almost too lengthy.”

“I’m going to marry your daughter, if that is what you intend to ask,” Juven told her, like it was the simplest thing in the world. Magda’s entire world froze as he stared at her, fond and patient as always. “I’m simply waiting for the right moment to ask. Something tells me Magda Ellenstein won’t accept just any proposal.”

“I taught her well, then,” Eliza said, and to her surprise, she _smiled_ at the pair. Considering her mother had been Juven’s biggest critic until very recently, it was a strange turn in events. How often had this woman advised Magda to remain just friends with Juven? And now she encouraged this? It was like she could read the question in her daughter’s eyes, continuing, “Even I know better than to stand in the way of such a pairing.”

Her mother and Juven continued to exchange small talk, which would have been much more interesting to Magda if her mind weren’t reeling. Since when did these two have more than a few sharp words to say to one another? Usually it was all thinly veiled acceptance, forced due to Juven’s father’s influence.

Juven really was too good to be true if he could win over her mother. The same woman who always warned her not to fall in love. She’d been destined to have a political marriage for her entire life—a loveless one at that, since falling in love would apparently make her less charming.

Did her mother know how she felt? That she hadn’t quite broken Rule 38, but that she might if she dared to continue with this façade?

“We ought to be going,” Juven decided, offering his hand to Magda. She accepted with a forced smile, the pair bidding their farewell to her mother before walking to the carriage together in silence. It was only when they were safely down the road that he squeezed her hand. “What’s wrong, eyas?”

“You won my mother over.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

Magda glanced over at him questioningly. “Why would you want to? This is all a game, is it not?”

“Of course. I play to win,” he told her simply, shrugging like it was no big deal. “Your mother’s approval means a great deal to you, whether you admit it or not. It’s only natural I’d seek it before proposing.”

“You’ve already asked her for my hand,” she realized, blinking a few times when he just chuckled like that was obvious too. “That’s why she spoke about how long this courtship has been going. When did you ask her?”

“Weeks ago,” Juven revealed. “The day after we made our little bet. I think she’s grown more impatient than my father now.”

“It’s going to be complicated when I tell you no.”

“I offered you a way out of this weeks and weeks ago. You insisted we continue.”

Magda’s heart sank in her chest as she realized he had a fair point, and even as he squeezed her hand again she couldn’t bring herself to let go of her thoughts. “It all seemed so simple then.”

When she believed their little game was harmless. When she believed she would never love any man in Finsel’s twisted social circle. There was even a prize—a chance for her to pick out someone Juven might grow to love. No matter how he denied it, he clearly longed to be with someone. To truly be with them, in a way their little game wouldn’t satisfy.

No doubt he’d sweep whoever she chose right off their feet, even if he didn’t love them from the start. Would he grow to care for them? Would he eventually let go of his feelings for Asteria and dedicate himself to the woman Magda chose for him?

“It’s still quite simple,” Juven insisted, a gentle hand caressing her cheek and willing her to meet his pointed gaze. “You know, I’d intend today to be the day. We were going to share a horse, and I’d lead you to a quiet field. There’s a picnic waiting for us.”

“Oh?” Magda prompted him to continue, a small smile on her face.

“Yes. We’d share a light meal, and I’d ask if you enjoyed our outing. You’d say yes, and I’d tell you there’s one thing that would make it better,” he told her, reaching into the pocket of his riding coat. He pulled out a ring, holding the pretty jewel between two fingers and offering it to her without a ceremony. “I want to marry you, Magda.”

“Is that a proposal?”

He shrugged, eyes focused on hers. “Only if you say yes.”

“That’s not fair, is it? You’re only supposed to be able to ask once.”

“Any other woman would have accepted weeks ago, when I floated the idea in the air. It wouldn’t have required a question—she would have latched onto the implication, and we’d be wed already.”

“I’m not just any woman.”

He snorted. “I know that. That’s why I want you above all others.”

“You want someone who doesn’t mind that you love another.”

“I’d challenge that statement. My affections aren’t exactly a secret in the circle. Most ladies would have accepted my hand regardless,” Juven insisted, raising a brow like he was daring her to disagree. She couldn’t, really, when she knew he was right. “You’re different. You want me to be happy.”

“I do,” Magda agreed, frowning as he dropped the ring into her hand and folded her hand closed around it. “Juven, I—”

“You make me happy, Magda Ellenstein,” Juven told her, not missing a beat. “I want to spend my life with you.”

“You can. We don’t have to be married to share our lives.”

“No man will treat you better,” he insisted. “You’ll want for nothing with me.”

“Juven…”

“I can show you pleasures you can only imagine, eyas.”

She whacked his arm at that, not surprised at all when he just winked at her. This really was just a game to him. No doubt he meant it—she _would_ want for nothing, and he _would_ be able to bring her pleasure. That only made her heart clench in her chest, sure that it would never be enough. Not when his heart still belonged to another.

“I can’t marry you,” she reiterated, reaching out to give him the ring back. He just shook his head though, refusing to accept it. “Juven.”

“Keep it. In case you change your mind.”

The carriage came to an abrupt halt shortly after, and she knew they were there. Juven was out in a flash, no doubt getting ready to round the carriage and help her down. All she could do was sit there in the silence, staring down at the silly ring he’d given her.

It was lovely. Meaningless, but lovely. She unclasped the chain around her neck, feeding the ring onto it before clasping it again and tucking it under her shirt. It was heavier than she expected, hanging right over her heart.

“Eyas,” Juven said, an expectant hand extended to her. She accepted it without delay, very nearly losing her footing as she stepped down. He held her steady, of course, an amused look on his face as she blushed at her own misstep. “Fear not, lovely lady. I’ll happily catch you any time you stumble.”

She rolled her eyes at him, though she didn’t doubt it for even a second. Somehow that knowledge just made her feel worse this time.


	9. Chapter 9

It was difficult to watch Juven pout, but for once there was nothing she could do to turn it around. She’d had enough. Each outing, each ‘date’—he’d been the perfect gentleman, sweeping her off her feet while still being himself. Ridiculous and endearing, all at once. They’d had so much fun, every single day.

Her poor heart couldn’t take it anymore.

“It’s time,” she insisted, shrugging like she didn’t care even when her heart was screaming at her to stop and crack a joke—anything to put a smile back on his face. “We’ve been at this long enough.”

“When I tried to end this, you refused to allow it.”

“That was back before we hit the point where an engagement would be expected. Now everyone is beginning to wonder what the hold up is,” Magda explained, folding her arms across her chest. “If you prefer, we can tell them I broke your heart.”

“You _have_ broken my heart, eyas,” Juven insisted, holding a dramatic hand over his chest. “I still don’t see the harm in getting married. Surely I’m the ideal candidate for you if there’s no other who’s caught your eye.”

“I don’t see why you can’t let this go. I turned you down ages ago.”

“I can’t let it go because you’re perfect,” he told her with that same imploring stare that she couldn’t look away from. “You’re beautiful. Kind and elegant. Funny, interesting, adorable, and pure. You don’t just stand there and bat your eyelashes at me—you talk back. You have standards. You won’t settle for less than you deserve.”

Wow, he was on a roll today, and it was really not helping with her resolve as she tried to explain, “I do have standards. I refuse to marry a man who loves another woman.”

Juven quirked a brow, clearly taken aback by that. “Is that what this is about?”

“Of course. I’d rather find you someone you could grow to love than continue to play pretend.”

“Why is it so difficult to believe I could love you?” He was serious—far too serious for her liking as he held her gaze like he owned it. “You’re the only woman on my mind, Magda. You have been for months now.”

“You don’t love me.”

“It's not as if you love me either," he countered smoothly.

Magda hmphed, not quite able to deny it. Maybe what she felt wasn’t love—not yet, at least. That was all the more reason to end this now. Why allow herself to fall further? Why push it to the point where she _was_ in love, just to remember he would never return her affections?

“I’ve moved on,” she told him slowly. “Duke Olineaux is no longer the man in my heart.”

“Oh?” Juven asked, blinking in surprise. “I suppose I should have guessed as much. You hardly react when you run into him these days.”

“Yet you…nothing has changed, has it?”

“Asteria will always hold a special spot in my heart.”

Magda took a deep breath, knowing exactly what she had to do next. “I’d like you to marry Emma.”

“Lady B?” Juven scoffed, an old nickname they'd created for the woman in question. “Why should I?”

“She’s kinder than you know. She’s got just the right amount of sass, too. I think you could grow to love her in time. Even Asteria has kind words to say about her.”

“Magda, please. I’ve no interest—”

“You gave me your word. We had a bet, remember?” She raised a brow, knowing he wasn’t one to back down from his own word. “You either marry me or the woman of my choosing. Those were the terms.”

“Is this really what you want?” Juven asked, taking a step forward and crowding her personal space. She stood her ground, unwavering even in his proximity. “I know you’ve enjoyed our little game just as much as I have. I know you wonder how it could be between us, if things progressed.”

“You say it as if you haven’t wondered,” Magda shot back, glaring up at him. “Your mind wanders more than your hands, Viscount. I know exactly what you’re thinking every time you hold me close. I can feel your desire most nights.”

“It’s difficult for a man to be subtle in such matters.”

She rolled her eyes, not surprised they had managed to turn such a serious conversation into another twisted joke. It used to bring a shiver down her spine, knowing how badly he wanted her. There was something deliciously improper about feeling his arousal hard and heavy against her, knowing they could go no further yet continuing to push the boundaries of their little escapades with each farewell.

Now it just left her feeling empty, her stomach turning uneasily at the thought.

“Who is he, then?” Juven asked slowly, brows furrowed. “You said Duke Olineaux isn’t the man in your heart. If you’re ending our courtship, I think I deserve to know who is.”

_You, you stupid fool,_ she screamed internally, her face a perfect mask of indifference. “Mr. Alan.”

Juven mirrored her indifferent stare, nodding after a moment. “I see.”

It was a statement she suspected she would regret very soon, but for now it was enough for her to breathe a sigh of relief. He didn’t seem fully persuaded, but he stopped pressing the matter at least.

“Give me two weeks. It would be rude to pursue Lady B immediately after ending our courtship.”

“Call her by her name, Juven.”

“To her and to the rest of the circle, I will. I refuse to wear a mask in front of you, eyas.”

“I don’t want you to hurt her.”

Juven let out a short sigh. “I will make her a very happy woman. You have my word.”

Somehow, she took little comfort in that knowledge.

\--

Two weeks after their courtship ended, the entire circle knew. Most assumed exactly what Juven said they would all those months back—that he’d simply grown tired of her. That he’d lost interest in their little game, especially when she showed no signs of allowing him to bed her. They’d done a good job maintaining a proper relationship, apparently, to the point where most were baffled he’d held out so long for her.

Almost immediately those assumptions were paired with an assortment of other, cruel rumors. That he was back to frequenting the whorehouses. That he was on a mission to bed every woman who ranked above a 7 in the entire city. It was ridiculous, of course, but Juven made no effort to dispute any of the claims. Instead he just smirked when he caught wind of it, sparing only a wink in Magda’s direction as a reminder that he was unphased by it all.

He was used to this kind of thing, she supposed, and she was not. It made her uncomfortable every time Kelly tried to bring her into the gossip. Every time Lynna tried to shove it in her face. Every time _Barris_ offered his sincerest apologies on his nephew’s behalf.

“Please, don’t worry. The Sakans will not change their friendly attitude toward you because of this,” Barris told her. “I swear by my reputation.”

“Juven and I parted on good terms,” she assured the man, a tightlipped smile on her face.

“He was a fool to let you go,” Barris told her, looking exasperated as he always did when talking about his nephew. “I’ve never seen a woman make him smile the way you did.”

“I was the one who ended our courtship,” Magda reiterated plainly. “I won’t see him take blame for it.”

“He must have done something for you to turn him away. Whatever it was—”

“It was nothing he could control. We simply held different views when it came to our relationship,” she explained kindly. “I still consider him a dear friend.”

“He admires you from afar,” Barris revealed, nodding toward his nephew. Magda didn’t need to follow his gaze to know—Juven was glancing at them periodically despite being engaged in a drawn-out conversation with Lady B. “Is there no way to find common ground?”

“Not on this subject.” Call her selfish, but she refused to accept a man who loved another woman. Now that the game was over, she knew it was something she would never be able to compromise on in a real relationship. The promise of future love wasn’t good enough. She wanted someone who loved her now, in this very moment. “I hope he’s able to open his heart more to the next woman he courts.”

“You saw a side of him he wouldn’t share with most.”

“And yet he still…” She shook her head, heart aching in her chest as she remembered all the longing stares. All the whimsical words, all directed at Asteria. He let his guard down because Magda was his friend—his partner in crime. There was nothing else to it. “He was never serious about me.”

“Were you serious about him?”

“Not at first,” Magda admitted slowly. “We were friends. It was amusing to cause a stir in the circle.”

“I thought at much. Something changed though, didn’t it? There’s no other explanation for a lady such as yourself to play along with a man like my nephew for so long.”

Leave it to the lawyer to draw a conclusion like that from the facts, putting the pieces together as he examined her with a faint smile.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think anyone else noticed. Not even Juven.”

When fun blurred into something much more. When playfulness became desire, and when teasing blended into truthfulness. She missed coming to these balls together, and they’d barely stopped. Now they could hardly greet one another without causing a stir, and so they avoided one another instead. At least until news of their separation settled.

She missed him.

“May I have this dance?” Barris offered, polite as always.

Leave it to him to make a show of the fact that relations between the Sakans and Ellensteins were just fine. She accepted his hand gratefully, feeling the weight slowly fall from her shoulder with every twirl. Barris was almost as good as his nephew when it came to dancing, which was a bit of a surprise considering he wasn’t nearly as free-spirited.

“Thank you for the dance, Lady Ellenstein.”

She echoed his words with a polite smile before parting ways, making her rounds through the ballroom and successfully evading all other attempts to discuss Juven Sakan. Her next breath of relief only came when she was with Gonzalo, who only made a single jab about the ‘pink gentleman’ before moving onto the next subject.

“Is there another man who’s caught your eye?” he asked, sipping at his glass of wine. “Or a lady, perhaps?”

“No,” Magda admitted quietly, grimacing for just a moment. “I may have implied to Juven that there was though.”

“Oh? How very scandalous, _eyas,”_ Gonzala teased, the pet name sounding so foreign coming from anyone other than Juven. “It’s not me, is it? Because I’m not certain he’ll find it believable.”

“It’s not,” she assured him, still looking apologetic. “It might have been Alan, though.”

Gonzalo’s expression soured in an instant. “What?”

“It was the first name that came to mind! I’m sorry.”

“Alan’s just barely warming up to the idea of being with a man. I refuse to allow you to confuse him any further. He needs time to sort his feelings out for himself, without any outside influence.”

“I won’t say anything to him,” she assured her friend. “I haven’t told anyone other than you.”

“Let’s keep it that way. If the pink gentleman tries to drag Alan into this drama, I’ll destroy him.”

Magda snorted, not doubting it for a moment. It seemed to be a common theme—everyone threatening to destroy Juven. Zoe had promised her the same thing, right up until she reassured him that Juven hadn’t done anything wrong. It felt nice knowing she had such good friends at least, it was just strange.

Why would everyone believe so easily that Juven had hurt her? Couldn’t they see the kind of man he really was? Surely years of acting as a playboy didn’t take away from his character. He was kinder than they seemed to know—smarter, too. No one could make her laugh as hard or make her smile as broad.

And now he stood across the room, laughing by the side of another noble lady at her request. Putting on a show for the whole room, winking when their eyes met like it was nothing at all to him. Like nothing that had happened between them had been any more than the act they had touted it to be.

This couldn’t end well.


	10. Chapter 10

The good thing about Juven ‘moving on’ was, it meant they could talk to one another pretty quickly after their courtship ended. Eyes were often on their every move, but that had never stopped them before. She sought him out at every ball, her spirits elevating every time he saved a dance for her. Every time he spared her a wink or smile from across the room.

He was her best friend, after all. That hadn’t changed, even if they couldn’t spend their days together quite as freely. Not yet at least. So long as he was ‘pursuing’ another, it wouldn’t be proper for him to call on her as often as he had been. These balls were their only real opportunity to see one another right now.

“Do you miss it?” he asked at one point, offering her a glass of wine as they ignored the eyes of the room. “Being courted by me?”

“Yes,” she admitted easily, earning her a broad smile. It really was unfair how good looking her was. “You were the perfect gentleman most days.”

“I suspect you miss the moments when I was less than a gentleman, too.”

Her face was bright red as she shook her head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Viscount.”

“Right. Always the innocent lady, never the seductress who couldn’t get enough.”

“You say it as if you weren’t the one initiating most of it.”

“Most, yes. I seem to remember vividly—”

“Ahem.” And just like that, the reminiscing was over. Lady B was at Juven’s side, waving down a maid to get her own glass of wine, oblivious to the tension in the air. “It’s lovely seeing you, Lady Ellenstein. Your fashion always causes quite a stir.”

Juven’s eyes swept Magda up and down like he’d been given permission to look, sipping at his wine as he agreed, “You are easily the finest lady at tonight’s ball.”

“Second only to you, Lady Beckinsale,” Magda forced out, sending Juven a meaningful glance. Lady B was the woman he was supposed to be courting—the one he would marry, if everything went well. It wouldn’t do for them to upset her in any way. “I hope things are going well for your father?”

“Yes. His latest motion in the Senate—”

The conversation dragged on, and it took everything she had to stay focused. It was funny because talking about things that didn’t interest her used to be so simple. How many nobles has she entertained with discussions about politics or fashion? Things she knew about, but didn’t care for deeply? It was that very ability that had won her family it’s place back in the Senate, and here she was, barely able to endure a single conversation.

Juven wasn’t helping either, sipping at his wine disinterestedly and sending Magda the ‘when will this end?’ eyes. It took all her willpower not to laugh or send him back a silly look in return.

By the end of it she was ready to celebrate with another glass of wine, beyond her standard one glass limit—a well earned prize for enduring this situation, she figured. But the desire to indulge was short lived when she realized Lady B wasn’t the only one who would walk away when their conversation ended.

“Well, Juven and I ought to continue making the rounds. You understand, don’t you, dear?”

“Of course,” Magda agreed automatically, refusing to meet Juven’s gaze even as she saw him mouth an apology. “I hope you both enjoy your evening.”

With that, they bid farewell, leaving Magda alone and kicking herself. She had done this. _She_ was the one who insisted Juven pursue her even when she knew he wasn’t interested. What had she been thinking?

Luckily she had the sense to remain composed, opting out of the extra glass of wine as she greeted other nobles in the room. The only bright moment in her night was seeing Gonzalo by Alan’s side, leaving her beaming as they shared their first dance. Things really were going well for all her friends.

So why did she feel so empty?

She chatted away mindlessly with Zoe, pleased at least that they could interact without any awkwardness or issue now that her silly little crush was behind them. Even he couldn’t raise her spirits fully, parting ways with a solemn stare like he knew exactly what was bothering her despite her insistent denial.

She was _not_ jealous of Lady B. There was no reason to be—all she had to do was say the word, and Juven would be on his knees with a proposal on the tip of his pretty tongue. There was no doubt in her mind that he would still prefer her to any other arrangement, and he hadn’t exactly been subtle about that since their ‘breakup’.

There was really only one thing stopping her from saying yes, and it had nothing to do with the fact he had another lady in his arms. She wanted everything he had to offer, but she also wanted _more,_ and knowing she couldn’t have that…

The aching realization tore through her before she could stop it, spreading like fire from her chest to the rest of her body. She was in a lot deeper than she had initially realized. These feelings she had far exceeded the bounds of a simple, misplaced crush.

\--

There were some rules Magda broke on purpose. Eating an extra pastry—a violation of Rule Number 3. Flaunting victory in a beauty match? Not allowed under Rule Number 51. Wandering outside without shoes? Well, that was against Rule Number 11, and it also hurt her feet, as it turned out.

The point was, she was just that kind of girl. When she was told not to do something, she tended to try it at least once for good measure. To get it out of her system, if nothing else. Often times she understood the purpose of the rule once she had broken it, and then she never messed with it again.

As she went over the rules in her head, there were only three she could count that she had never broken. Two of them she’d kept without much thought, and the other…Well. The other she had slowly realized was hanging in limbo.

Number 38. Pesky, pesky Rule Number 38.

_A lady who falls in love will become less charming._

It was her mother’s way of telling her not to fall in love at all, and for the longest time it had been the one rule she swore to uphold no matter what. The most crucial, repeated rule in the entire rulebook.

Breaking it had been a complete accident.

“I love him,” she admitted to herself, staring at her sad form in the mirror. Tears were already streaming down her face before she dared utter the words for the first time. “I love him…”

She curled forward where she sat at her vanity, hugging herself as the sobs gripped her. Goddess, this was pathetic. It had stung back when she realized she had some misplaced feelings for Zoe, but this? This _hurt._ She ached from head to toe, her very soul pained as the night’s memories replayed in her mind. There was only so much she could take before these feelings threatened to consume her entirely.

How many times did she have to watch them together? How many nights could she witness their dances and exchanges? And she’d brought it all on herself, insisting she could pick out a woman for him to grow to love. What had she been thinking?

“Magda,” her mother called to her, entering the room without knocking. She let out a gasp at the state of her daughter, swooping in with a surprising lack of judgment. There was no scolding—no telling her how unladylike she was being. It was just instinct, a mother holding an upset daughter in her arms. “What’s happened?”

“I’m sorry, mother,” she wept into her mother’s chest, shaking her head emphatically as the tears kept flowing. “You told me. You told me not to, and I just…”

“Whatever it is, we can work it out together. There’s nothing so bad—”

“You warned me not to. Rule 38, you said—”

“I told you to stop numbering them!”

“It’s the only way I could keep track of them all,” Magda explained, another sob tearing through her as she realized she’d upset her mother on top of everything else. Eliza whispered apologies, soothing her daughter as best she could even as she kept muttering irrational apologies about all the rules she’d broken over the years. “I just wanted to see the fireworks with my friends. I didn’t mean to sneak out—”

“You were _twelve,_ Magda. What does this have to do with anything?”

“I’m a terrible daughter.”

“You’re the perfect daughter, and I’ll fight anyone who says otherwise,” her mother told her sharply, pulling back with a huff. “Enough of this. Tell me who’s upset you, and I’ll take care of it shortly.”

“It’s my own fault.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I broke it,” Magda insisted, shaking her head and pulling back to meet her mother’s eyes. Eliza looked more patient than she ever had before as Magda brushed the tears from her blue eyes, only to make room for more to overflow. “Rule 38. You told me not to fall in love, and I…”

“I suppose that explains why Viscount Sakan is here at such a late hour,” Eliza sighed, pushing up her glasses with two fingers as Magda’s eyes went wide. “You didn’t know?”

“No. He didn’t even see me leave the ball.”

“Apparently he did. I tried to send him away—it’s improper to call at such a late hour. He insisted on staying until I let him see you, even if that meant waiting until morning.”

“He’s here still?”

“I fear he’ll barge through the door any minute now,” Eliza admitted disdainfully. “I thought you ended this courtship yourself, Magda.”

“It’s complicated,” she replied, knowing her mother wouldn’t understand. No one would, aside from the two crazy friends who had decided it was a good idea in the first place. That was the beauty in it all, too. They never needed anyone else to understand as long as they had each other’s support. “I feared I cared more than he did.”

“Did you discuss this matter with him?”

“No. His own words confirmed my suspicion, and so I thought it best to remove myself from the situation before it was too late.”

“And?”

And it was already too late, as it turned out.

She couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud, already feeling foolish enough. Why would she allow herself to fall in love? Let alone with _Juven Sakan,_ the man she knew loved another. It was like she’d learned nothing all these years. The reason a lady became less charming when she fell in love was because love made a lady do pathetic things like cry in front of a vanity. Love made a lady helpless and dependent on another, and Magda Ellenstein was used to needing no one.

“Go see him,” Eliza demanded, her expression leaving no room for negotiation even as Magda opened her mouth to protest. “I’ll not see you in tears all night. Listen to what he has to say and then send him on his way.”

“Fine,” she huffed, not caring how childish she seemed.

Surely her mother had seen worse throughout the years. She put on her night coat over her slip, half expecting her mother to tell her she needed to get back into her ballgown and makeup. To her surprise, the older woman made no comment, instead just watching as Magda walked out of the room nervously. 

Why was he even here?

The question was ready on the tip of her tongue as she entered the living room, suddenly regretting her state of undress as he blinked in surprise upon seeing her. She clutched the white night coat and held her arms folded across her chest as she stared at him expectantly.

“Is something wrong, Viscount? It’s not like you to visit at this hour.”

“You left the ball in such a hurry,” he began, voice laced with concern. “You didn’t say goodbye.”

“And?”

“And I fear I’ve upset you,” Juven replied. He rose to his feet almost tentatively, like he was waiting for her to scold him or tell him to stay away. Those words could never leave her lips though—not aimed at him. “You know she means nothing to me.”

“Not yet.”

“You meant nothing to me at one point,” he countered, taking another step closer. “Look at us now.”

“Right,” Magda laughed, wiping away a stray tear before he could see it. “I don’t think we’re the best example of anything, Juven.”

“You told me to court her. You said she was the woman you wanted me to marry.”

“I know.”

“So why do look at me as if I’ve done you a disservice? As if everyone in the ball room is right about me breaking your heart?”

Magda opened her mouth, not having the slightest clue what she was supposed to say. He was right. Every single thing he was saying was right, and she didn’t have it in her to defend her own behavior and poor decisions at this point.

“Magda,” he pleaded, his voice raw in a way she’d never heard before. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you love me.”

“What?”

“Tell me you love me—that I’m right to think the looks you’ve been sending me are those of a jealous woman. That you miss being with me as much as I miss you. Please, tell me.”

“If you already know, why do you insist I say it?”

“Because I love you, too,” he said, like it was so simple—so light and easy even as it knocked the wind out of her. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do in this scenario. I much preferred when we were playing this game together. I don’t know the rules anymore, apparently.”

She watched helplessly as he walked closer, in awe as he stopped just a foot in front of her. He dropped down to one knee, reaching out for her free hand and placing a delicate kiss on the back of it. Her other hand curled tightly around the ring on her necklace, pulsing as she felt the beat of her heart hammering away beneath it.

“You love me?” Magda asked, raising a brow as she saw nothing but an earnest look on his face.

“And you love me,” he told her confidently, his smile growing when she didn’t deny it. “I believe we had a deal, eyas. I’m either marrying you, or the woman of your choosing.”

“Oh?”

“I already gave you the ring,” Juven reminded her slowly, “but I never did quite get around to asking the question. You said I could only ask once...I'm asking now, Magda. Will you marry me?”

Magda stared down speechlessly, looking for any signs of insincerity or doubt. Any flicker that would reveal this was all another tease or jest. There was nothing though. Just Juven, his striking eyes filled with hope as he stared up at her wordlessly.

“I could go back to courting Lady B if you prefer, but honestly, she’s not my type just like Mr. Alan isn’t yours,” he insisted, adamant. “I don’t see why you chose her for me.”

“She’s a nice woman.”

“Sure, nice,” Juven shrugged. “She’s not quick with her words—she’s not sharp or prickly. She doesn’t keep me on my toes, waiting to see what she does next. She doesn’t make me laugh, and most of my smiles are just polite. She’s nice, yes, but she’s not you. I love _you.”_

“You love Asteria.”

“I adore her. She will always hold a place in my heart,” Juven admitted, almost apologetic. “That doesn’t mean I haven’t fallen in love with you. I’d choose you given any option, Magda. I’d have thought it was obvious ages ago.”

“You’d settle on an 8 when you could have a 10?”

Juven snorted. “Just this one time, I suppose.”

“Then, yes. I’ll marry you.”

Juven was beaming as he rose to his feet, pulling her into his arms and holding her like he had no intention of letting go. He kissed her forehead as they stood there, content in the silence as it all began to sink in. She was engaged to Juven Sakan—they were getting _married._ The thought alone had her heart racing anxiously, remembering they had just barely ended their courtship a couple weeks back.

How were they going to explain this new twist?

“Let’s enjoy the engagement a while,” he said, like he could read her mind. “We don’t have to make the announcement until you’re ready.”

“Lady B—”

“Was more interested in a fling than a courtship. Trust me, she won’t care. I haven’t even spoken to her father yet. I had no interest in making it official while I was in love with you.”

“You love me,” Magda repeated, pulling back and staring up at him with a bit of awe. “Isn’t that bizarre?”

“Stranger things have happened than two friends falling in love.”

“I suppose,” she conceded, unable to shake her smile. “I just hope you realize what you’ve signed up for. I’m a rule breaker, in case you didn’t know.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“Well, my mother has an extensive list. One hundred sixty-two rules. I’ve broken all but two now.”

“Hmm. Which two?” Juven asked curiously, raising a brow as the blush settled across her cheeks. “Eyas. You’re the one who brought it up.”

“Never go out in public dressed in anything less than your best.”

His eyes flicked down her body, then back up. He raised a brow. “Is this your best?”

“It’s my best nightgown, yes,” she winked, watching in amusement as he took that as apparent permission to look her up and down once more with a dark look in his eyes.

And there went Rule Number Eighty-Two, she realized, not minding one bit.

“It _is_ very nice, but I wouldn’t say it’s your best,” he concluded. “It would look nicer on the floor.”

“Excuse you,” she said, shaking her head fondly. A pervert right till the end, this one. “That brings us to the last unbroken rule. Never lie with a man who’s not your husband. Looks like that’ll be the only one I get to keep.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t mind accompanying you to—”

“My mother will kick you out and never allow you to return.”

“I don’t know. You seemed pretty convinced Rule Number 38 was a deal breaker, and she still seems to love you,” Juven mused, leaning down and capturing her lips before she could get in a retort. “I missed this.”

“Me too.”

“I’d best leave before your mother decides this is too improper after all. Thank her for allowing me to see you?”

“Of course.”

“Shall I plan to pick you up for tomorrow’s ball?”

“You don’t have plans to attend with—”

“No. Attend with me, Magda. We’ll give them something to gossip about even if we’re not announcing the engagement just yet,” Juven suggested, eyes bright with just enough amusement to have her nodding along. It never did take much for him to persuade her into being his partner in crime. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Wait,” she said suddenly, reaching for his hand as he stepped away. He turned to face her in confusion, raising a brow as she brought his hand up to her chest. She cupped it around the ring she wore on her necklace, eyeing him tentatively. “Would you put it on for me?”

“It would be my pleasure, eyas,” he told her, smirking as deft fingers splayed across the bare skin above her breasts.

His eyes never left hers as they circled to her back, trailing softly until the clasp to her necklace was in his grasp. He had it undone like an expert, letting the ring drop into his hand. The smirk on his face turned into something sweet as he lifted her hand, sliding it onto her ring finger without delay.

“A beautiful ring for a beautiful lady.”

There was no doubt about it in that moment, especially as he leaned down to steal one last kiss for the night. She’d broken a lot of rules in her life, some intentionally and some by accident. Breaking Number 38 had definitely been her favorite of them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Any comments, kudos, etc are fully appreciated more than I can express! Let me know what kind of fic you'd like to see next? Doesn't have to be this ship, I'm pretty open minded in this fandom.
> 
> Right now I'm working on a Black Glove/Magda BDSM AU that I've already started posting here, and a Barris/Magda one shot featuring Juven as the best friend/nephew ever. I'm open to other suggestions though! I get anxious posting things that I think people don't like, so yeah, makes it easier if there's something specific I know someone will be interested in reading.


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